


An unpleasant sort of man

by headless_nic



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 10:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 41
Words: 59,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17681729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headless_nic/pseuds/headless_nic
Summary: With his friend's spirits being very low recently, Charles Bingley decides to invite Darcy along to his newly rented estate in Hertfordshire. But on the first evening there, Darcy, normally intent to keep up appearances, already gives offence to the people of Meryton and one Elizabeth Bennet in particular. Soon, however, she discovers that there is more to the man and that he carries a dark secret that could well destroy his family should it come to light.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story contains vague references to the rape of a minor but doesn't go into detail.

With a truth so universally acknowledged as that a young man with a large fortune must be in want of a wife, the arrival of the unmarried and very eligible Mr Bingley with a fortune of five thousand Pounds per annum, was no trifle for the likes of Mrs Bennet, whose business, ever since her eldest daughter had come out into society, had been to see her five daughters married, and married well at that. The tumult that had erupted after she had first heard the news might not have been unprecedented in the Bennet household, nor was the reaction of her husband to be wondered at, for he was a man of caprice and sarcastic humour as well as quick wit and consequently, when he had declared that certainly there was no need to call on their new neighbour, Mrs Bennet's indignant outcry that surely he must go for it was the custom had rung through Longbourn House all the remainder of the day and well into the next morning. Her complaints had been manifold and ceaseless only to fade away in an instant as soon as she found that her husband had been trifling with her all along and had, as he did with every new neighbour, paid Mr Bingley his respects early the very next morning after receiving the news of his arrival. However, the ladies enthusiasm for the topic of their new neighbour was slightly dampened by the fact that whatever arts and allurements they tried to apply, their father would not let any information about the man slip. Eventually, it was their neighbour, Lady Lucas, who had to be applied to, to get any news and descriptions at all. It was then, that they first heard that he intended to come to the next ball at the Assembly Hall in Meryton, the small market town in whose close vicinity they all lived and that he was to bring a large party of friends with him. This was good news indeed, for dancing was a certain step towards falling in love and lively hopes of Mr Bingley's heart were soon entertained. Still, the number of ladies he was to bring, sounded somewhat alarming, and yet, when the day of the ball finally arrived, the young ladies of Longbourn House – Jane, the eldest, Elizabeth, Mary, Catherine and Lydia – found that all their woes had been for nought as Mr Bingley's party consisted of only five people altogether: his two sisters, the husband of the elder a Mr Hurst and another young man.   
Mr Bingley was lively and unreserved, his sisters at least polite, though more pleased with themselves than with what they saw while Mr Hurst merely looked the gentleman but was too busy drinking and eating to make any other impression than that he was an indolent man with little brain and an enormous stomach. Mr Darcy, the fifth of the party was another matter altogether. He was tall and handsome, incredibly rich and he for some time he was greatly admired by the ladies and gentlemen alike until it was discovered that all Mr Hurst's faults, by comparison, seemed insignificant, for he was discovered to be proud. All evening long he had been wandering about, not dancing at all, not even with the ladies of his own party, hardly ever opening his lips and on top of that he refused to be introduced to anybody, until:


	2. Chapter 1

Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr Darcy had been standing near enough for her to overhear a conversation between him and Mr Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it.  
"Come Darcy," he said, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you stand about in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."  
"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room, whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."  
"I would not be as fastidious as you are," cried Bingley, "for a kingdom!" Upon my honour, I have never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."  
"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Mr Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.  
"Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."  
"Which do you mean?" and turning around, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye he withdrew his own and coldly said, "She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour to give consequence to young ladies, who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for...(1)"

"Darcy, I am well aware that you are not in the mood to dance, but this really will not do! If you intended to be miserable, you could just as well have stayed at home."

With a dour expression, Mr Darcy replied that he would have done exactly that, had not he, Bingley, insisted on his coming hither.

"You have been miserable for weeks, nay almost months now, Darcy, and as a friend, I cannot have that. Come now, let us forgo propriety and introduce ourselves if you object to being introduced by Miss Bennet," Bingley cheerfully spoke and turned around to smile at his partner's sister, who had first with amusement, then with growing indignation and now with returning amusement, listened to the conversation between him and his friend.

Mr Darcy looked positively shocked at such a suggestion and with an almost sneaky grin Bingley turned towards the patiently waiting Jane and before the reluctant gentleman could say another word, his friend had made sure he was introduced to Miss Elizabeth, whether he wanted it or not and was duly engaged for the next set.

It was obvious that he took no pleasure in his new acquaintance, however, and rarely had Elizabeth looked forward to a dance with as little enthusiasm as this one. On occasion, it seemed, having no partner could be more agreeable than having to dance with such a miserable one as Mr Darcy, she thought to herself but was resigned to make the best of the situation anyway. What else was there to do? I it was not, after all, as if she could consider declining this dance unless she wanted to forgo the pleasure of dancing altogether for the rest of the evening, for she had already refused a dance with Mr Bradshaw, who even when sober had difficulty not tripping over his own feet. But alas, he had not been sober anymore and since asking her, he seemed to have seen reason and had retreated to sit with the other, mainly older gentlemen, to smoke and drink some more. Now she almost wished to have danced with him in order to be able to avoid having Mr Darcy as a partner. What were a couple of bruises to miserable stiffness when, at least, her partner would have been amiable?

Yet, never one crying over spilt milk, Elizabeth soon saw the funny side of the situation and while the current dance commenced, she joined her friend Miss Lucas to laugh about it.

"You cannot imagine just how conceited he is, Charlotte!" she cried out, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Not handsome enough to tempt him? As if I even attempted to do so! What does he think? That each and every lady is running after him?"

"It was not very polite of him to say so, I agree, Eliza. But considering what I have heard about him, I dare say there are a great many ladies who would not mind tempting him at all," Miss Lucas replied smiling wryly and in looking up saw that they were watched by the very man they were speaking about looking rather uncertain for a moment before he was back to frowning.

"Then they can have him for all I care. What does he mean by being so miserable at a ball?"

"Oh, Eliza, now you are being unkind," Charlotte Lucas reprimanded her mildly, knowing full well that her friend was not quite in earnest, “he might have his reasons for being miserable, you know?”

"Do you mean to say that he has sprained his ankle but is too proud to say so?"

"Eliza!" Charlotte laughed, before quickly hiding her glee behind her fan.

As the present dance was just about to end the conversation between her and Miss Lucas came to a halt as she was then joined by a very timid looking Mr Darcy who stiffly led her to the dance floor. There he bowed politely, though unsmiling still, as if to make it even more clear that he took little pleasure in the activity and especially in her as a partner. He was a good dancer, however, if a bit hampered by what she perceived to be a slight limp she had not noticed before, and Elizabeth Bennet, well aware of the glances that were cast their way, was quite pleased to be able to match his style as they made their way down the set.

"For someone who does not like dancing, you are astonishingly good at it, Mr Darcy," she remarked lightly after a while, beginning to find the silence between them slightly oppressive.

This was met with a surprised glance from him, and with the tiniest hint of a smile he replied: "I might not like dancing but I do like music, the rest is nothing but practice, I suppose."

"Then you must have practised exceedingly hard," she remarked with a teasingly raised eyebrow and sparkling eyes and it was at this moment that Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley realised that she was not like all the other women he had as yet met, “for I find that it is ultimately harder to excel in something one does not like while whatever one finds pleasant comes with ease. Do you not agree?”

He nodded and for the shortest of moments his eyes lit up with a genuine smile, seemingly about to reply to her playful comment, but before he could do so, her mother's voice reached her ears and his expression turned ever so much darker. 



If he was not careful, he was in great danger of enjoying himself more than he ought, more than he had done in months at any rate, if not in years. There was a refreshing lightness about his present partner that seemed completely devoid of any designs in regards to capturing him and he appreciated that. But no sooner had he thought so, when the shrill voice of a woman reached his ears as she proclaimed what a fine pair he and Miss Elizabeth would make and it took little skill to deduce that it was the very lady's mother who spoke thus.

"Oh, first my Jane and Mr Bingley and now Elizabeth and Mr Darcy! What a fine pair they make, do they not? I dare say he is quite smitten with her already. And she is the only person he danced with so far... - I would not be surprised if he called on us in a day or two."

From his partner's flustered expression it was clear that she had heard it, too, and yet, the blush that consequently had crept over her face, was most becoming, and he could not help feeling sorry that she had been so embarrassed by someone so close to her, for that she was mortified, was obvious. 

He had been tempted to reply to his fair partner's remark equally light-hearted, but now thought it to be unwise. No, he could not connect himself with such a family and if dancing with the lady alone, had given rise to such speculations as an impending courtship, then smiling at her would be as good as an engagement in the eyes of the people around them, and in her mother in particular. And not just that, his leg had begun to hurt tremendously again and every step, turn and bow was becoming nothing but pure torture.

"Excuse me, please," he said at last, and led her to the very chair from whence she had overheard his and Bingley's conversation and with no little astonishment Elizabeth Bennet sat down, too speechless from anger and shame to say anything as she watched him retreat and leave the room.



And as he did so, the limp which before she had hardly been able to detect, seemed all the more prominent now. Could Charlotte be right with there being a good reason for the man being so dour and unapproachable? Pain surely could make even an amiable man prickly and abrasive. Bit if he truly was in pain, why had he not made any excuses?

Still, flustered Elizabeth Bennet glanced up and into the caring eyes of her oldest sister, but in this instant, Jane's comfort was bound to upset her even more as her thoughts whirled around in her head. She was quite sure that her mother's remark had brought this about, for for a moment Mr Darcy's features seemed to have lightened up - but still, it was not very gentlemanly to do what Mr Darcy had just done and leave his partner, her, in the middle of a dance without further explanation. If he really was injured and in pain, why had he not just said so? It would have been more than understandable that he did not wish to dance when in pain. It was all so very puzzling, confusing and most and for all mortifying.

"Oh, Elizabeth," Jane sighed, sitting down beside her sister, waking her from her thoughts.

"I am fine, Jane, save for my dignity, which somehow has been slightly injured," Elizabeth Bennet replied with a forced smile.

Once more she attempted to laugh it off, but this time, the slight had been too severe to do so with ease and feeling ever so many eyes on her she greatly wished to do as Mr Darcy had just done and simply walk from the room to get back home. There would be no joy for her to be had tonight, and by the time the ball would end, the gossip would be unbearable of that Elizabeth was certain. As much as she liked the people of Meryton, their gossiping was something to be reckoned with and it would be a while until she would hear the end of it.

"I can only assure you, that Mr Bingley is equally shocked by what has just happened. He is just now following his friend to try and bring him back," Miss Bennet carried on, embracing her sister and thus upsetting her even more.

"That would be the worst he could do. I certainly do not want him here anymore, I assure you!" Elizabeth cried out in exasperation before rousing from her seat to flee from the rooms. After all, to where she knew not.

 

(1): Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 3.


	3. Chapter 2

"What on earth was this all about, Darcy?" Charles Bingley cried out having hurried after the man.

He was but rarely really angry, but now was one of these instances and to an as yet unprecedented extent. He was almost livid. And yet, he was also concerned about his friend. The man, normally courteous and level-headed, had acted out of character for many weeks now and though Bingley had claimed to need his help in setting up his new estate, something he, in all honesty, was new to but would have managed somehow, the true reason why he had asked Darcy along had been that he had been worried about him.

Fitzwilliam Darcy had always been a private man and he had always preferred to stay at home and read a book instead of going to a ball, that much was true. It was something his lively friend had never been able to fully understand, but nonetheless always had accepted. After all, Darcy was very different from himself and though that was the case, they had always gotten along well together despite, or rather perhaps because of this. Bingley with his liveliness and cordiality had been endearing to Darcy, and Darcy, over the years, had proven to be a steady and sensible friend who was well capable of giving him good advice, keeping him out of trouble, and that was quite often if he were honest. But normally, when not in society he would at least make an attempt to enjoy himself, to be introduced to various people and to be less sombre than was his nature. Something which Bingley knew did cost his friend quite some strength as he was almost painfully timid when among strangers, almost shy even.

"I am sorry," Darcy simply stated flatly, and his tone of voice clearly showed that he meant what he said, "but I am no good company at present and I really wish you had not forced me to come with you tonight."

"That is hardly an excuse for slighting a young lady as you have just done now," Bingley replied, though already with less vehemence than before.

His anger never lasted long and there was something in his friend's mien that showed him, that something serious was amiss, though he could not say what it was. And perhaps he really should have left him to his wishes and leave him where he was more comfortable, namely his, admittedly sparse, library at Netherfield. But, if only, Darcy would confide in him... - What could possibly be so bad that he deemed it necessary to rather shut himself up like an oyster?

"No, it is not, you are right, Bingley. But at present, I can give you no further intelligence other than that something very serious has occurred a couple of weeks since, which has me distracted and might do so for the foreseeable future. And still, I should not have acted the way I just did. I know it is a lot to ask, but please send on my excuses to the lady, while I will go home now and leave for London on the morrow."

Again there was something in his friend's tone of voice and bearing which stopped Bingley from berating him any further or refusing his request. For the moment he thus dropped the matter and decided that tomorrow would be sufficient to persuade Darcy to stay at least another week.  
As he stepped back into the assembly-rooms, he ran straight into his younger sister, who seemed just as incredulous as himself, though, for very different reasons, it appeared.

"Charles, you cannot be serious in settling here!" Caroline Bingley approached him, fanning herself in an almost theatrical manner. "The society is beyond tedious and have you seen these dresses? How unfashionable they are. I declare not one of these people has any taste nor have they ever set foot into Almack's or any proper ballroom in London. And their manners, Charles. Their manners! It is hard to bear to be here and I wish we could leave at the earliest moment."

Which in her opinion was clearly right now. But of this, her brother would not have anything. He was determined to acquaint himself with his new neighbours and after all, Miss Bennet was an angel, such as he had never seen before. Her smiles made his heart flutter and right now gave him the strength to approach her sister to ask her for the next dance, so he would be able to bestow Darcy's excuses on her without too many people overhearing what he was saying, well aware how quickly gossip could spread and how unforgiving it could be. London itself was a prime example when it came to that.



Elizabeth Bennet, after a breath of fresh air in the small gardens at the back of the assembly hall, had obviously regained her spirits enough to greet him with a smile and readily accepted his hand for the next. That at least was promising, as Mrs Bennet was proclaiming her displeasure all the more so.

"Well, really, have you ever seen such a proud disagreeable man as this Mr Darcy?" she currently addressed Lady Lucas, who in turn only nodded her head, though her expression which unmistakably showed that she completely agreed with her friend.

"To leave my Lizzy in such a manner!"

"Mama, please," Jane tried to interfere, casting a quick smile in his direction. “I am sure there must have been a great misunderstanding...”

"Oh, no, Jane, I will not please. Misunderstanding indeed! - How dare he? He behaved most abominably and rude and I declare he is no gentleman at all!"

With an almost rueful smile, Elizabeth Bennet rolled her eyes before taking his arm to be led onto the dance-floor.



"Miss Elizabeth, I must speak, and speak plainly,” Bingley began, as soon as the music had started, “I am very sorry for what has occurred and I can only say that it is most unlike my friend to behave as he has just done. Truth be told, I do not know what has gotten into him lately and I am quite concerned about him." 

A frown crossed her comely features, though there was also some curiosity and so he carried on in the hopes of making her understand that had he known this to happen, he would never have prodded his friend to dance with her.

"Mr Darcy and I have been friends for years now, and never in my life have I seen him as distraught as he has been of late. It was in an attempt to make him enjoy himself again, that I persuaded him to come here tonight, even though he had objected to it. Please, Miss Elizabeth, do not hold it against him, for he has many responsibilities which currently seem to weigh him down more than they usually do."

To appeal to her kind-heartedness seemed indeed to be the right thing to do, for a small smile appeared on her pretty face, though it was by no means equal to that of her sister's, and lit up her dark eyes and with a calm voice, which bore none of the injury that had been done to her in front of all of her friends and family she replied: "I have fathomed as much, Mr Bingley, and while the mortification was a great one, I do believe you when you say, that it might be due to Mr Darcy being quite unwell. And in pain at present?"

The last part had been partially asked as a question, taking him by surprise.

"In pain?"

Bingley had not perceived his friend as being in pain, other than in his mind that clearly was weighted down for some reason or another.

"Yes, he seemed in pain when we danced and winced a couple of times, I noticed, and when he left I am sure he was limping. Did you not happen to see it?"

Indeed he had not and he wondered how it could have possibly escaped him. Then again, Darcy, normally an active kind of man, had been sitting about more than he normally did, mainly brooding and rarely joining in the conversation, and since there seemed to be something pressing on his mind, he had not wondered about it. In fact, it was exactly how he had first met Darcy, shortly after his father had died five years ago. It was just his way of dealing with all the emotions which otherwise threatened to overpower him. But while previously Darcy had eventually begun to lighten up at the cordial insistence of his then new friend, now all this friend's efforts had as yet come to nothing. Fitzwilliam Darcy had closed himself up like an oyster and as yet, Bingley had not been able to pry open the tightly shut shell.

"I confess, Miss Bennet, that it did quite escape me," Bingley replied after a while looking rueful, but trying to make light of it, "but you know, a man never likes to admit, that his horse has lost him."

A small laugh was all the reward he needed as he was strongly reminded of her sister Jane and no sooner had the dance ended, when he asked Miss Bennet for another set, ignoring both his sisters' increasing demands of returning back to Netherfield at the earliest opportunity. Glancing at the candles he estimated that the ball would end soon enough as it was and as yet he was not prepared to leave such pleasant company as the one he had found here and forgo Miss Bennet's smiles.

It was in his very nature to please where he could and be pleased in return, and with both he had succeeded, as his very amiability had eventually drowned all gossip regarding Mr Darcy and his slight to Miss Elizabeth Bennet and was now focused on him and his sisters again, who, though wishing nothing more than to leave, were still too well mannered to refuse to be introduced to all the principal families and to Jane Bennet in particular, whom they proclaimed to be a good girl, well worth knowing.


	4. Chapter 3

"Good morning, Darcy," he was greeted by his friend in an annoyingly cheerful manner the very next morning.

"Good afternoon, more like," was his own, much less cordial answer.

He originally had intended to leave early that day, but he did not want to do so without bidding his farewell to his friend and the sisters – and Mr Hurst, of course, though there was little to recommend the man and he rarely sought out his company and did care even less about being attentive to such sluggish and idle a man - but his host, and any other member of the household save for the servants and himself, had slept in. It was well past two o'clock, and to set out now, though not impossible by any means for London was but a few hours away, would still be rather inconvenient. It would be dark by the time he reached town and he was not sure whether Georgiana was in a state to deal with such a surprise. His little sister had been very unwell lately and the slightest disturbance to her nowadays carefully set routine threatened to overcome her and so Darcy had decided to stay another day in Hertfordshire, as little as he was inclined to do so. 

To be in company was intolerable at this point and his actions last night, of which he was deeply ashamed, had proven as much to himself as well as to his friends and everybody present. At least he hoped that his host now understood that he could not deal with any kind of social obligations at present. Glancing at Bingley's cheerful countenance, however, he doubted that the man was aware of just how little he understood Darcy's current desire to be left on his own and mull things over, how deeply concerned for his sister he was and how desperately he hoped yet, that his worst fears would not become a certainty.

"Ah well, when one comes home late from a ball this can easily be considered morning, can it not?" replied Bingley smilingly.

"No."

"Oh come now, Darcy, what reason is there to be of such foul mood all of the time? It is a lovely day outside. Look! The sun is shining, the sky is brilliantly blue and we have not had any sports yet. What do you say? Let us evade the ladies and set out for a bit of fun."

Sighing Fitzwilliam Darcy had to admit, that it was indeed a very fine day and that it should not be spent indoors, but he was in no state to ramble around and shoot by any means. Since his quarter of an hour dance last night with Miss Elizabeth, his injury hurt more than ever and it took him more and more of an effort to hide his limp or keep his features even. But to do so, was absolutely necessary, for explaining it without resorting to falsehood was impossible.

"I have some business to attend to," Darcy instead replied to his host's suggestion.

This was perfectly true, though he could easily have postponed it. His steward had sent him a note about a week ago in which he had advised his master to consider enlarging one of the barns, as the crops this year had, by far, exceeded their expectations. Presumably, the only good news he had since the incident... - Was it three months already? Three months of suspense, desolation, worry and pain? Yes, time had flown by and still he was none the wiser as to what to do should the worst happen. Nonetheless, his steward's missive was now a welcome excuse for not taking any exercise and though the expansion would not be built until the next spring, he could just as well settle it all now and be done with it.

Charles Bingley though looked doubtful and his face had turned serious and concerned as he now steered him towards Netherfield's library, a room which hardly deserved this term, as there were hardly any books kept within it. But it was usually empty – presumably for exactly this reason – and it seemed that he no longer could escape his friend's scrutiny.

Bingley was a good-natured man, but he had a knack of sensing when something was not right and sure enough, the door had barely closed behind them when he began: "Darcy, I can see that something is troubling you. I know you too well to not see that you are worried out of your senses. Will you not trust in me and accept my help? Are we not friends?"

With a small smile, Darcy sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace accepting the glass of brandy he was handed.

"If you could help me, Bingley, I would be more than happy to accept your support, but I fear there is nothing you can do to relieve my present situation and consequently there is no reason to burden you with my sorrows."

"Is it money?" Bingley carefully prodded, starting with the least likely of his friend's worries.

Darcy was a careful man and though he was rich and kept a good house and table, he could hardly be called extravagant, something Miss Bingley frequently commented on in a woeful tone of voice.

"No, of course, it is not money," Darcy replied, gulping down the amber liquid in one, holding out his glass for it to be refilled, before adding: "I wish it were, for then I would know exactly how to act and what to do."

"Has someone died?"

This time Darcy only shook his head. It would be wiser to leave, surely, but the burden upon his shoulders and the incessant throb in his leg made him weary and so he did not stir.

"Have you been unlucky in love?"

Here Darcy almost started laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. Did his friend really think that a broken heart would render him this lost? Surely not!

"Darcy, really, what are friend's for other than to trust in them and their help?" Charles Bingley carried on, his face full of compassion, which almost proved to be too much to bear for Darcy, who had never been able to deal with pity, at least not when it was directed towards him.

"As I have told you, Bingley, I would confide in you, were there the slightest chance that you could help me out of my current misery. Moreover, I wish you could," he answered truthfully. "But as it is, you cannot, no-one can, and I beg you to just let me be for the time being and let me assess my options in regards to what I can do to resolve this issue. At any rate, I should not have come here in the first place, it was very inconsiderate of me to join you, when I knew I would neither be good company nor any help."

“Are you severely ill?”

“I am... - not.”

"Has it to do with your injured leg?" Bingley at last asked and had him start.

How did he know? Darcy had been very careful to hide his limp and though it had cost him some strength, he had been certain that no-one had noticed.

"My leg?" he stammered, downing his second brandy if only to ease the pain.

"Yes, Darcy, your leg. You are injured, are you not?"

"It is nothing, I assure you," he whispered, subconsciously rubbing the wound on his left upper thigh, which felt swollen underneath the fabric of his breeches and the gauze he had wrapped around it since it still would not cease leaking after all those weeks. 

Sometimes he doubted if all of the bullet had been removed from it, or if some residue was still in there, some dirt the doctor had missed when cleaning it with alcohol and afterwards sewing it close.

"If it was only a matter of falling off your horse, there would hardly be any need to hide it, would there? And you did a good job at doing so, I have to say, for I did not notice until Miss Elizabeth pointed it out to me."

"Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy startled, thinking back to the lively young woman and her beautiful dark eyes as they sparkled with amusement, and then had dulled in shock and shame at his actions.

"The lady you danced with last night."

"I know who she is, Bingley, as she was the only person I got introduced to, and the only lady I danced with, I can hardly have forgotten her after so short a time."

"Even though you found her merely tolerable? Or was that a remark only meant to throw me off?" Bingley asked smilingly.

"The latter," Fitzwilliam Darcy admitted.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was far from being only tolerable with her rosy lips, her healthy complexion, her dark curls – and those beautiful soulful eyes...

"I thought as much."

"So, what about Miss Elizabeth? I hope I have not offended her too much."

"I dare say her mother was more offended than her, she actually took it quite well. So, what is it with your injury?"

If he had thought he could change the subject of their conversation, Darcy had been wrong, as his friend proved to be surprisingly persistent. Weighing his options he, at last, decided to tell him parts of what had happened and hoped that with that the subject would be closed.

"You remember that I went to Ramsgate a couple of months back?"

Bingley nodded thoughtfully.

"On my way there I happened to get into a fight and trying to get a lady out of harm's way, was shot by the blackguard threatening her."

There, that should do. It was not a lie, though not quite true either and a fight at a coaching inn was nothing too out of the common way to be unbelievable. That he had started said brawl and that the lady he had tried to get out of harm's way had been his sister, was another matter, as well as that she and the man he had attacked had been on their way to Gretna Green to elope. - Against her will.


	5. Chapter 4

He had broken his fast early and then prepared to leave as soon as Bingley made his way down to have breakfast of his own, which hopefully would be soon as he was impatient to be gone. His leg throbbed ominously and Darcy decided that as soon as he was in London, he would go and see a doctor. This morning his wound had been a vivid red and had swollen considerably and what he had feared for the last few days became apparent. His injury had become infected.

However, before he could dwell on his own person much longer, a courier arrived and made him jump up from his chair, almost knocking over his cup of coffee in the process. As much as he hoped against hope, he was pretty certain, that it was no good news he would receive.

"I have a letter for Mr Darcy," the rider panted, shoving himself past the frowning footman.

"I am Mr Darcy," he replied with forced calm and the missive was promptly pressed into his outstretched hand.

Reaching into his waistcoat pocket he paid the messenger and then fled out of doors, to where he knew not. All Fitzwilliam Darcy did know was, that he needed to get out and into the open, as the walls of Netherfield closed in on him and all but choked him. Eventually, after having gone from the house as far as he dared without getting lost in his wound up state of mind, he sat down underneath an old oak tree and with shaking hands opened the letter, bracing himself for what was to come.



It was quite early in the day when Elizabeth Bennet set out for a walk. The first hints of the approaching autumn greeted her, and over the last week, it had gotten significantly colder and wetter than it had been before. Still, the sun was shining brightly and Elizabeth, particularly partial to the upcoming season with all its colourful radiance, was looking forward to the leaves changing their hue and the magic the first frost would bring as it clung to the branches and foliage like crystals gleaming in the golden glow of light.

The events of the assembly were still vividly present in her mind and once more she thought over the abominable behaviour of this Mr Darcy. He was a mystery – moreover, there seemed to be a mystery surrounding him and she was quite curious as to what it could be. Perhaps a matter of the heart? But no, he did not seem to be the type for being romantic, more like a rational man who was at the end of his tethers. And then there was this mysterious limp of his... 

Though she had been greatly mortified, her anger had long since disappeared and duly been replaced by a wish to find out more about the unfathomable and unpleasant man.

It was as if her thoughts about him had made him appear, as there, underneath an old oak tree Mr Darcy sat, lost in his own thoughts, his head buried in his hands as if he suffered from great pain, physically as well as mentally. For a moment she contemplated whether she should approach him or not, but when she saw that his tall frame was shaking and he was obviously crying, she decided against it. After all, men never liked to be seen as being weak and a man like Mr Darcy perhaps even less so. Still, she could not help it, as little as she knew him and as rudely as he had behaved, her heart flew out to him as she saw him so forlorn and troubled. Something weighed heavily on him, and she wondered at his friend for not having noticed just how lost the man really was. Was it not blatantly obvious how desolate a situation he must be in? How could Mr Bingley have had the heart to drag him to a ball when in such a state of mind? At that instant all her anger that had still lingered, though it had never been very intense in the first place, evaporated. 

The slight rustle of her steps in the long grass and a careless misstep which resulted in an audible gasp from her, suddenly made him sit up straight and before she could retreat, Darcy had spotted her, his face a mask of shock and embarrassment, though it was completely dry other than she had expected.

"Miss Elizabeth!" he cried out, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

Darcy looked incredibly pale and haggard, the very picture of a broken man.

"I am sorry, I did not want to intrude on your privacy." the thus addressed stammered.

With some difficulty, he got to his feet and once more she perceived the limp, which seemed to have gotten worse since she had last seen him, and which seemed to give him some trouble as he approached her now to bow formally.

"No, I suppose you did not," was his toneless reply and the ghost of a smile played on his lips.  
"Please, Miss Elizabeth, I must beg your forgiveness for my behaviour the other night. It was unpardonable of me, to just leave you."

"I suppose you had your reasons for it." she tried to make light of it, though at first, she had been excessively vexed.

"None that would make it excusable, I am afraid." 

His face assumed a rueful expression and again something akin to a smile played on his lips, which even reached his eyes – dark and soulful ones, she noticed, that were otherwise filled with the same sadness which enveloped him like a dark cloak.

"And your injury is not a good enough excuse, Sir?"

At hearing her words he stared at her, his face unreadable and his mouth set in a firm line.

"It is nothing, I assure you," he, at last, said, again bowing to her, though Elizabeth had the distinct feeling it was more to hide his emotions at that moment, then out of courtesy. "Pray excuse me, Bingley is surely awaiting my return."

With a curtsy, Elizabeth once more turned, accepting his dismissal without offence, and it was only now that she saw the letter which had been lying next to him underneath the tree where he had sat. Did it contain bad news? Well, there was little doubt that it had, she berated herself and with another inquisitive glance she left him to himself again and walked away.

No sooner had she taken the first few steps, when she felt compelled to turn around again. There had been something in his features which had alarmed her, something that had made her wary, though she could not say what. And indeed, now that she looked at him as he still stood there watching her departure, she realised how pale he was and how flushed his cheeks and how sweaty his forehead appeared. He was burning up with a fever, and in the wrought up state he was in at present, he would hardly be able to walk back to Netherfield all by himself. Should something happen to him, she would never forgive herself.

Forgoing all propriety, she again approached him and startled he looked at her, as she stepped up to him, reaching for his arm with one hand and for his forehead with her other. Darcy was so surprised at her gentle touch which spoke of nothing but an honest concern for his well-being, that he did not shy away. 

It was as she had thought, he was burning up rapidly and soon would be delirious. The uncontrollable shiver of a feverish person ran though his body and had her startle. He had not been crying, he had been feverish already when she had first seen him sit there! Consequently, she needed to get him into bed as fast as she could. For only a moment did Elizabeth contemplate whether she should run over to Netherfield to get help there, or escort him there, but then, in realising how tall and stately he was, decided that it would be better if she brought him to Longbourn, which was far closer than his friend's estate. - And she did not need to leave him on his own. It would be easier to bring him back to Netherfield from Longbourn in a chaise than to attempt to support him the almost two miles thither.

"I will escort you back to my home, Mr Darcy, and then send for Mr Bingley," she stated matter of factly, in such plain and decided a way that he did not object, but only whispered a grateful 'thank you'.

By the time they reached Longbourn House he was heavily relying on her support, gasping at every step he took. What on earth had happened to him? And why did he seemingly not confide in his friend, who seemed more than eager to help him out of his current misery? Had he done something dreadful? Something he was bound to conceal? He seemed a dark sort of man, but Elizabeth doubted it. Mr Darcy did not strike her as a blackguard. Proud? Yes. Haughty? Yes. Unpleasant? Yes. - Well, no!

She suddenly was not even sure anymore if she could judge him at the present moment, sketch out his character without doing great injustice to him. Perhaps he was none of these things, and perhaps he was all and worse.

It was the first time in her life, she had failed to assess a person's character upon meeting, and it startled her. Her impressions were all one way, and a negative one at that, while her instincts went all in the other direction and made him out to be an honourable sort of man with great principles and feelings, who had been struck by tragedy.


	6. Chapter 5

"Dear me, what are you bringing this unpleasant man here for?" Lydia Bennet, who seemingly was on her way to Meryton together with Kitty, exclaimed as soon as she saw Elizabeth and her staggering charge approach the house.

"Lydia!" her older sibling gasped angrily and shocked at her sister's indecorous behaviour, her shoulders aching under the weight of the tall man she was supporting. "Instead of standing there, rather help me bring him into the house."

Lydia, indignant about her sister's reproach as always was the way with her when someone dared tell her off, did not budge, but Kitty quickly hastened to her aid, first throwing open the door, which she had just closed and then reached for Darcy's other arm, correctly assessing the situation to be a dire one, where prompt action was required before it was time to ask questions.

"I thought we wanted to go to Meryton," Lydia pouted.

No-one replied to this, too busy to keep the staggering man from falling. Both Mr Darcy and Elizabeth were at the end of their strength, and Kitty, being but slight, was insufficient to take the man's weight off her sister completely. But as soon as they entered the hall Mrs Hill appeared, made wary by the raucous they had caused as all three had stumbled into the house, and quickly wiping her hands on her apron relieved Elizabeth of her load, steering the now near unconscious man towards one of the chairs in the hall where she had him sit down.

"Dear me, that fellow doesn't look well!" she exclaimed. "Who is he?"

"He stays at Netherfield," Elizabeth answered evasively, unsure of how much of what she suspected she should reveal.

But Mrs Hill was used to not asking questions, something that ultimately came with years of experience dealing with a mistress like Mrs Bennet. In good time, all would be disclosed to her anyway, and if Miss Elizabeth knew who the man was and seemingly thought him to be honourable enough to bring him home, for her that was enough at present.

"I will call Betty to prepare a room for him," was her only reply and with that she swiftly retreated to the back of the house. 

Only a moment later the maid appeared, hurrying up the stairs to do as she had been bid.

"The letter," Darcy gasped, as his shaking hands searched his pockets, as if of their own accord.

"I will go and get it, as soon as we have taken care of you, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth assured him, astonished at his agony.

"It must not be found!" he cried out, attempting to jump from his seat, which almost had him end up on the floor as his legs gave way underneath him.

"Please, sir, calm yourself, I will go and get it. All will be well."

At her words, intended to soothe, he only grew more agitated, and a desperate sob escaped his lips as his eyes met hers.

"If only that would be, could be true," he whispered.



Her mother had been incredulous after learning who would, at least for the moment, stay at her house. Mrs Bennet still was in high-dudgeon from his behaviour at the ball, and in no mood to forgive him. She was a high-strung woman, with little sense and little education, and never had her self-centredness been more apparent than it had been when she had finally appeared in the hall just as Mr Darcy was to be brought up to one of the guest-chambers.

"Oh, what is that ghastly man doing here, Lizzy?" she cried out, with the man in question still well within earshot.

"He has fallen ill and I happened to come across him," Elizabeth repeated once again, barely able to suppress a sigh and deeply embarrassed by her family's behaviour.

"Fallen ill? He surely did not fall ill in the middle of nowhere, did he now?"

"But he did."

"You can hardly expect us to believe such a tale, sister," Mary chimed up, as always intend to see the darkest side of a situation, and when her sister had come home with a man she claimed to have found as he burned up with a fever, they surely must have done something scandalous.

Only Jane remained perfectly calm, though her expression had assumed a worried look. - But it was worry about Mr Bingley's friend and compassion for his situation.

"I know it sounds odd, Mary," Elizabeth replied after exchanging glances with Jane, "but as it is, it is the truth. I was walking and found Mr Darcy sitting underneath a tree, where he sat feeling unwell. He was burning up with a fever and so I decided to bring him here, as Netherfield was too far away. And now I will go and inform Mr Bingley of his friend's whereabouts."

"What, on foot?" Mrs Bennet cried out at this.

"Yes," was her daughter's calm reply.

"Then let me join you, Lizzy," Jane said softly, turning to go and get her pelisse.

Though Elizabeth would have liked her sister's company, and for many reasons, one of them being that she would have liked to tell her about all that had come to pass, since she had gone out that morning to take a peaceful walk, she declined Jane's offer, thinking of the mysterious letter she was to retrieve on her way back. Jane, of course, could be relied upon, but still, she preferred to first see for herself what it was about. She was not in the habit of spying on anyone, but in this instance, she felt it was necessary in order to help her charge recover, for as such she saw Mr Darcy at present.

There was no need to go as far as Netherfield, she soon found, as Mr Bingley, on his horse, met her half-way, thither.

"Miss Bennet!" he cried out, as soon as he saw her. "Did you happen to see Darcy? I have been all over the country to try and find him, but he has disappeared from the face of the earth it appears. Left this morning without a coat or a hat."

The concern for his friend, and perhaps the regret of having him brought here in the first place, was obvious and quickly Elizabeth assured Bingley that Mr Darcy was safe, though feverish, at Longbourn.

"Dear me! I knew something was not right. So you are his saving angel then, Miss Bennet," Bingley smiled, relieve lighting up his handsome features.

"I did nothing more than any person would have done in such a situation, Mr Bingley. I will now call for Mr Jones, who is our apothecary, and then return home. I am sure you will be very welcome to visit your friend, though I hope by now he will be asleep and recovering."

"Seeing that I am on horseback and you would have to walk, let me get Mr Jones. It will be a lot faster. I can be in Meryton in five minutes and at Longbourn in less than half an hour."

Dropping a small curtsy, Elizabeth accepted his offer and as soon as he was out of sight, turned onto a narrow footpath and back to the spot where she had found Mr Darcy. And sure enough, there the missive still lay, slightly damp from the dewy grass it had lain in. With shaking hands, she picked it up, averting her eyes, not daring to look at it, but at last, she glimpsed down and read the lines which had a man as sombre as this so shaken with grief and at the same time fearful it would be discovered.

It only bore a few lines, but what she read was shocking indeed, if she interpreted the rather vague meaning of the note right:

Dear Mr Darcy,   
I am very sorry, Sir, but it seems all your fears have come true. Your sister is with child, I can now say it with certainty. She has gone into shock and I urge you to come back to London as soon as you can. Miss Darcy has not eaten anything and not spoken a word since the news have been broken to her. Mrs Annesley is trying her best to be of comfort, but it seems Miss Darcy is blaming herself for what has come to pass and you as your brother might be better suited to assure her, that none of this is her responsibility.  
Yours sincerely  
P. Hamilton M.D.

From Jane, she knew that Miss Darcy was not even out in society yet, obviously unmarried and not much older than Lydia, and being with child in such a state, was scandalous enough, but moreover, the letter implied that she had not willingly given her virtue. It was not, that Elizabeth did not know that there was such a danger to a young woman, as a man violating her, Mrs Bennet had warned her often enough about it when she had gone on rambling around the country all by herself, but she had never been confronted by it as yet, had always thought her mother silly rather, for always assuming the worst. But what must the poor girl suffer? - And her pitiable brother! No wonder he had been so crestfallen and full of despair. No wonder he had not asked his friends for help, for what help could they give?

In regards to his injury, she suddenly had a suspicion. If he knew who had done this to his sister, he surely would have challenged the man, would he not? It would not have saved his sister from scandal, but at least it would have brought satisfaction, and as little consolation this was, it was better than nothing, she presumed, having thought to duel always a rather silly habit herself.  
Tucking the letter into her pocket, she hastened back to return to Longbourn and reached it just as Mr Bingley and Mr Jones arrived there.


	7. Chapter 6

When Mr Jones reappeared from upstairs, having looked at his patient, he appeared uncommonly grave.

"I fear there is not much I can do to help him," he said in a grave voice, which had everybody startle.

"Good God!" Bingley, who had been sitting with them in the parlour, cried out, quickly getting to his feet to run upstairs.

"No-no, that is not what I meant. I literally meant that it is I who cannot help him. You will need to send for a surgeon and quickly, I dare say, for his condition is a serious one, but nothing to despair off just yet. He is a strong fellow, he will make it through, I dare say," the apothecary replied calmly, the smile he usually bore on his good-natured round face returning to a degree.

At hearing that, Mr Bingley sat back down, next to Jane, with whom he had been talking all the while before the man's entrance. There he seemingly had found comfort and her complaisance and beauty were enough to ease his concern. Her mother, on the other hand, was still fretting about being so imposed upon by such an unpleasant man, who, after all, had slighted one of her daughters. That this daughter had obviously forgiven him utterly and completely did matter little to her. Mary as well had not ceased to lecture everyone who stayed long enough within earshot, about the fragility of female virtue and while Mr Bennet had shortly joined them, he had equally fast retreated to his library again. What her father's thoughts on the situation were, Elizabeth could not fathom, but then again, he was a pragmatic sort of person, who, though taking delight at laughing at his neighbours, would never refuse them any help should they need it. No, on his integrity she could rely upon.

Since her return Elizabeth had not yet been able to go upstairs, and the letter in her pocket burned as if it were on fire. Her impatience grew to be rid of the cursed thing, but wait she must. And it was the least she could do, considering all. It saddened her, that any human being could suffer so at the hands of another though she was not quite as ignorant as not to know that such darkness existed. It was just that she had as yet, always been sheltered from it. Her age of innocence was over.

"Well, he will be tolerated then, till he can be moved," Mrs Bennet, at last, remarked with a theatrical sigh. "Not that I like it very much. It is such an inconvenience, really. But what must that must, I suppose."

"Mother, please!" Elizabeth tried to stop Mrs Bennet from saying anymore that could offend not only Mr Darcy should he ever hear of it, but also his friend.

But as so often, every attempt to make her more courteous made Mrs Bennet more querulous instead.

"But it is true, Lizzy. He is such a proud sort of man, and no matter how rich he is, and how much of Derbyshire he owns, I declare I shall never like him! His treatment of you has been most abominable and had I been in your place, I would have left him where he was."

Casting a glance in Mr Bingley's direction, Elizabeth blushed to see how uneasy he looked, how taken aback and how flushed Jane's face was at hearing her mother's ungracious words.

"Mama, please, I know your nerves are all in a flutter, but you can hardly hold it against Mr Darcy that he has fallen ill, can you? How could I have just left him there all on his own?"

"Oh well. He should have taken better care of himself as to not fall ill. I presume he is a very negligent sort of man, is he not, Mr Bingley?"

"Actually, I hardly know a man who takes better care of himself, Madam," was Bingley's rather stuttered reply.

"Ah, so vain he is, too. Well, these young men nowadays are all so wrapped up in their own concerns, they can not be bothered to act with consideration towards another person, I declare," Mrs Bennet exclaimed with no little triumph of having discovered yet another dislikeable trait in the man she was determined to abhor as much as she possibly could, whether it be reasonable or not.

There Elizabeth could take it no longer. 

Getting up from her seat, she stood before her mother and angrily exclaimed: "That is quite enough, Madam! Do you not see in what light you throw all of us? You, who speaks of her nerves and the lack of compassion for them from the people around you, show little compassion yourself when faced with other people's misery. I am most mortified by your ungenerous, ungracious speech and cannot even begin to express my deepest apologies to you, Mr Bingley. I am deeply ashamed."

Charles Bingley gaped at her, as did everybody else in the room and suddenly realising what she had just done, tears of an even greater mortification brimmed her eyes and she fled to her room, locking herself in, too ashamed to see anyone. How could she have forgotten herself so? How could she reprimand her mother in such a way and in front of not only two of her daughters but also two complete strangers to her family?



"Lizzy?" Jane's gentle voice sounded from behind the door a good while later. "Lizzy, please open the door."

"I am so sorry, Jane. I must have driven away Mr Bingley, I presume."

There Jane smiled and shook her head.

"No, he is still here and presently sitting at his friend's bedside. A doctor has been sent for and should be here by tomorrow morning, and in the meantime, Mr Bingley will stay here, should Mr Darcy get any worse. We sent someone over to get Mr Darcy's things and Miss Bingley is to write a letter to Miss Darcy to inform her about her brother's sickness. Perhaps bringing her here will be of some comfort."

At seeing the situation getting more and more out of hand, Elizabeth had some difficulty in clearing her head. How would Miss Darcy react to such news? And how could she be brought here? Oh dear, what an impossible situation this impossible man was in!

"How is he?" she, at last, asked, trying to look as composed as she possibly could.

"Mr Jones says he is still half-unconscious, but once the wound is cleaned up properly, he should be fine. Lizzy, do you know what happened to him?"

"No, but I have an idea as to what might have. But as it is nothing but an assumption, I might do great injustice in sharing my suspicions and I rather not voice them as yet. Perhaps I am wrong and from what I have heard and seen this far, I fear I could do great damage if I say any of what I presume."

With that Jane was content, as always.

"How is mama? Is she very angry?" Elizabeth asked after a few moments of complete but not uncomfortable silence.

"Yes. Yes, mama is very angry at you, Elizabeth, and from what I have heard, she is thinking of sending you away to London. – Well, as always when you are in discord with her, so I would not think any of it just yet," Jane replied, a lopsided grin on her face. "While I cannot condone what you have done, I have to admit, however, that I agree with the sentiment of what you have said. I was quite mortified at her ungracious words and that Mr Bingley should hear them all made it all ten times worse."

"But you were more mortified by my reprimand of her," Elizabeth smiled wryly, at this point unsure whether a banishment to London would not be preferable to staying here at any rate.

"Naturally," Jane replied with a gentle smile, reaching out to wipe away her sister's tears.



Elizabeth would have much preferred to pass dinner, but to hide away indefinitely would not do and so instead she braced herself for whatever was in store for her. Her entrance into the dining room was, much as she had expected, greeted with icy coldness from her mother, an indignant frown from Mary, a complaisant smile from Jane and a curious look from her two youngest sisters, while her father did nothing but frown slightly. Mr Bingley still had not come down again, which later was explained by the fact that even though Mr Jones had said that he could not really do anything in regards to his friend's wound, he still decided to cut it open to relieve the pressure of the considerable swelling and thus had required the man's help to hold down his patient. 

This was just as well, for, after a moment of uncomfortable silence following her entrance, her father addressed her: "Now Lizzy, is there anything you have to say to your mother?"

"I am sorry, mama. I should not have said what I did," she mumbled.

"Ah, I thought so. However, Mrs Bennet, I have to say, as ashamed as I am of my dear Lizzy, you deserved to be humbled."

Open-mouthed his children and wife stared at him.

"Oh, Mr Bennet!" his wife, at last, exclaimed, once more in a high-dudgeon.

"No, I had quite enough of it, my dear," Mr Bennet carried on undeterred by her whining tone of voice, he was so used to interrupting what surely would have ended in a tirade. "We ought to set a good example and I fear we have done little in this way until now. From now on, I will see to my daughters become worthy of being called young ladies, meaning that I will hire a lady to educate you all properly. - No, Lydia, I will not argue about it, I have quite made up my mind. I will ask your Uncle Gardiner to find a suitable person for such an undertaking and that is the end of it. As for your going to London, Lizzy, as your mother insists, I dare say a little change of scenery will do you good, and your aunt always likes to have you there anyway. And considering that they will visit at Christmas, I dare say the little more than six weeks until then, will be a rather welcome break."

"But Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth protested.

Raising a questioning eyebrow her father looked at her before answering with a slight smile: "Ah, he will be taken care of, I am sure."

"But when am I to go?"

"I think everything should be arranged for in a week."

A week...

The rest of the meal passed in unusual silence. The younger Miss Bennets fretted over their most unlucky fate of finally getting a governess, while the older ones greatly approved. Mrs Bennet was too offended still, and claiming a headache left the table half-way through dinner and retired to her room from where her wails, as she complained to Hill of all the injustice that had been done to her, sounded throughout Longbourn House.


	8. Chapter 7

That night, Elizabeth could hardly sleep. Too much had passed to keep her mind from rest and while the others had long since retired and presumably were fast asleep now, she slipped out of bed, slipped into one of her gowns and out of the door.

Knocking quietly on Mr Darcy's door, his valet opened with a surprised face at seeing her.

"I just wanted to..." she stammered, holding up the letter.

"I see," the man said, bowing slightly as he took the epistle from her.

"How is he?"

"As well as a man can be in his condition."

He seemed to want to say more but then decided against it, when a gasp from the bed had him wheel around and hasten to his master's bedside.

"You blackguard!" Darcy cried out and at first, Elizabeth was startled, till she realised that he was in a kind of feverish delirium.

"Unhand her, you scoundrel! How dare you touch her?!"

Closing the door behind her, Elizabeth stepped closer towards the bed in which the thrashing man lay.

"I will have your guts for it, Wickham. Unhand her this instant!" Darcy now all but shouted and helplessly his valet, a man who was a good deal older than his master, tried to calm him, but to no avail.

"What has he done to you, Georgiana? What has this bastard done to you? - Let go of her, I said!"

Sitting down on the other side of the rather narrow but very comfortable bed she reached for Mr Darcy's hand with her own and gently caressed his temple with the other like her mother had done whenever one of her daughters had been ill when they were still little. The effect was almost immediate. Giving in to the caring touch Fitzwilliam Darcy calmed down and eventually slipped back into a more peaceful sort of sleep. She had heard enough to confirm her suspicions. Good God!

"Thank you, Miss Bennet, I feared for a moment that he would rouse the whole house," his trusted servant spoke softly, glancing over at her with a grateful smile. "It was you who found him, was it not?"

She acquiesced while carrying on soothing the sick man who lay between them, his breathing now even and strong. Even on his sickbed, she could not help thinking what a handsome gentleman Mr Darcy was. Tall, lean but muscular, with a shock of curly dark hair and a mouth that at the same time spoke of firmness but also of a very sensitive character. His eyes she could not see, but she knew them to be a deep shade of blue. It was the first time she had a thorough chance of observing him closely and had it not been for his rude behaviour at the assembly, she was certain that with him around, Mr Bingley would not have stood a chance of being swooned over by every young lady in the neighbourhood as he was now.

'Well,' she thought, 'that man has only eyes for Jane.' 

And it was just as well, Bingley had. After all, she was the prettiest girl around and her serene disposition ultimately must recommend her to any man. 

It had been late when Bingley had left Longbourn with the promise to return early the next morning, but though he had been invited to stay the night, he did not want to impose on their hospitality any further. It was needless to say that it had been out of concern to upset Mrs Bennet even further should he do so, but Elizabeth had felt it exceedingly.



It was still very early the next morning, when a carriage halted in front of the house and a young man climbed out of it quickly. But before he could knock, Elizabeth, after a sleepless night and having stood by her window, had thrown open the door and let him in so he would not disturb the others too much, with her mother and two youngest sisters still sleeping and Mary practising her skills on the piano in another part of the house.

"You must be the doctor from London, sent for Mr Darcy?" she panted at leading him into the hall.

Smiling he replied that he was.

"Doctor Hamilton, at your service," he bowed.

So, he was the very man who had written to Darcy and whose letter had upset him so much that he had distractedly run about when he should have rested instead. She would have thought the medic to be older, but Doctor Hamilton could hardly be five and twenty if even that. Still, he had a calm and reassuring mien about him and she could easily see why he had been engaged to look after Miss Darcy, even though she did not know the lady. There was an honest friendliness and gentleness about him that recommended him, and all in all, he was not much unlike Mr Bingley, though perhaps not quite as exuberant and a lot more down to earth, exactly as a man in his profession should be.

"Mr Jones said, Mr Darcy's wound got infected and he did not dare do anything more than to puncture it, to relieve some of the pressure. - At least that is what we were told," Elizabeth spoke up, more to fill the silence than for any other reason.

"Yes, I was told as much and came here straight away. I told Mr Darcy it would be a bad idea."

"But, of course, he would not listen," she finished his sentence with a smile.

Yes, he was a likeable man and if he was as good a doctor as he appeared to be a person, then surely all would be well.

"No, of course, he would not," the young doctor replied dryly.

She was tempted to ask how Mr Darcy had come by his wound, but the expression on Doctor Hamilton's face showed clearly that he would not betray any trust. All the better!



The morning dragged and aside from Jane, no-one spoke to her. Kitty and Lydia were still too upset to do so, seeing that her outburst had put an end to their idle freedom and her mother was simply too angry to deign her with any attention, while her father once more was shut up in his study to write to his brother. The more Elizabeth thought about it, the more she was resigned to go to town. What was supposed to be a punishment for her, was more of a relief than anything else and by the end of the day, she was quite looking forward to it.

The rest of the week passed rather quietly and uneventful enough for her taste and only the news that the militia would be stationed in Meryton for the winter brought some excitement to the Longbourn-family, at least in regards to her mother and youngest sisters. 

"But thanks to you, I presume we will see little of the officers," Lydia exclaimed with a sudden bout of woe after breaking the news to her family, having just come back from their aunt, Mrs Phillips.

"Oh, but of course you shall see them, my dear," Mrs Bennet replied, glaring likewise at her second oldest daughter, "for there are balls and assemblies they surely will attend. And so will you. We cannot neglect our social duties only because you will have a governess."

With such happy prospects, peace was soon restored, though Elizabeth hoped that whoever her uncle would engage as a governess, that she would put down her foot and insist on her charges to behave with propriety. But seeing her mother indulge her two youngest in such exuberant a way, she doubted the poor woman would stand a chance.



When he woke up, Fitzwilliam Darcy could hardly remember what had happened in the last couple of days, and he certainly did not know where he was at present. The room was rather small, but comfortably furnished and the bed he lay in was as comfortable as any he had ever slept in. The curtains were drawn and only little light seeped through, though showing enough to ascertain that it was day. 

He was thirsty and his head ached and still, he felt better than he had in a while though at first, he did not know what made him feel so much improved. Slipping out of bed he poured himself a glass of water from the carafe on his bedside table and drank greedily only to realise that there was yet another business he needed to take care off. But that issue was just as easily resolved as he found the chamber-pot right underneath the bed where it should be. Of course! 

His wound did not ache as much as it had before, as a matter of fact, he hardly felt it and glancing down he saw that it had been freshly bandaged by adept hands and that the linen covering the injury was clean and brilliantly white instead of discoloured and wrinkled as it had been before.

But where was he? Ah, of course, Bingley's new estate, surely.

A knock on the door woke him from his thoughts and quickly climbing back into bed and covering himself, lest it should be Miss Bingley, he bid the person to enter. It was not Miss Bingley, but a more welcome lady carrying a tray with a bowl of what he hoped would be soup, as he was oddly ravenous.

"Miss Elizabeth," he greeted, wondering what she was doing at Netherfield.

Was he delirious? Did he imagine things? No, there was something at the back of his mind which told him that something had come to pass that would explain it all.

"You are awake at last," she smiled and her eyes sparkled.

"At last?"

"Yes, you have almost slept through three days. Doctor Hamilton said that is a good thing as your body would heal better if you took a thorough rest, but I have to admit that I did start to worry. The doctor has left for London earlier this morning, but he said he would be back tomorrow."

"You worried about me?" he stammered, thinking of how unruly he had treated her at the ball.

"Of course I did, Mr Darcy," she replied, setting down her load on the bedside table. "The state I found you in, was quite disconcerting."

The state she had found him in? - Oh gods, yes... - It indeed had slipped his mind. But now the memory of what had happened came back with full, merciless force.

"The letter...?" he stammered, as panic equally grew with his mortification.

"I retrieved it as you asked me to, and gave it to your valet who, I am certain, kept it safe. He currently takes his meal downstairs with the other servants, but should be back in a moment, so you can ask him then."

"Did you see it? It's content, I mean?"

With a slight blush she admitted that she had: "I am sorry, I did not mean to pry, but I thought it might give me a hint as to what had happened to you and how I might be able to help you."

He knew his face had hardened at her confession, but before Darcy could ask whether she had spoken to anybody about it she carried on: "I have not said anything to anybody if that is what worries you. No-one knows of this letter save for me and your valet, well and yourself. Not even Mr Bingley – at least not of what it contained. He only knows that you have left Netherfield after receiving an urgent note, but he does not know it from me but from one of his own footmen."

Immediately he relaxed and leaned back into his cushions, a sigh of relief escaping his cracked lips.

"Am I forgiven?" she asked, sitting down on the chair next to his bed, reaching for the bowl and a spoon.

"With all my heart, Miss Elizabeth. Though what must you think of us? What must you think of my sister? And me as her guardian?"

"That your sister has been shamefully used and that you are a very caring brother, Mr Darcy. And now, in order to get back to Miss Darcy, who clearly needs you by her side as soon as possible, you should eat something."


	9. Chapter 8

Doctor Hamilton did return, as he had promised and was so well satisfied with his patient's recovery that he was sure that within a very few days he could return to London and at last it was settled that he should do so just on the day when Elizabeth would leave for London as well.

"If that is so, Mr Bennet, may I take it upon myself to escort your daughter thither?" Darcy asked as they sat together in his host's book-room, at last having been allowed to get out of bed for a couple of hours.

For a moment Mr Bennet seemed to contemplate about his offer but then agreed to it readily enough, remarking on the convenience of the arrangement for himself.

"You have done so much for me, it is the least I can do, Mr Bennet," Darcy replied humbly, while at the same time feeling rather selfish.

"Well, well, it was nothing more than anybody would have done, Mr Darcy, no matter what my wife says."

He was still fairly embarrassed to have trespassed on a family so little known to him for such an amount of time and was well aware that Mrs Bennet wished him gone rather sooner than later. It was hard to miss, in all honesty, with her indiscreet complaints right in front of his door, while at the same time, she did actually do her best to cater to his comfort. He did appreciate her for that.

Bingley had visited him every day, each time eager to assure him that he did not mind the least to do so and Darcy got the suspicion that he once again missed something, but only until he chanced to see his friend and the eldest Miss Bennet stand together in the driveway which lay directly underneath his window, two stories below. If only he could be so happy and carefree. - But he did not envy his friend the happiness of being in love. Of late he had seen too much sorrow to not thoroughly enjoy the prospect of someone around him being happy for a change. And from what he could discern, their temperaments seemed to perfectly suit one another. But, of course, there was always Miss Bingley to be reckoned with. 

Caroline Bingley and her sister had also visited him. Twice even. The first time had been tedious enough to have him pretend to be asleep the second time around, not that he was particularly proud of having done so. It was childish, after all. But he could feel her determination to become his wife grow ever so much stronger, and that would just not do. He would take great care to make it clear once and for all, that he was not inclined to wed her, and even though she was unaware of it, ignoring her attentions towards him, was by now becoming increasingly necessary.

At last, the day of their departure came and just after breakfast they took off, Doctor Hamilton, Miss Elizabeth, her sister Jane, who would stay in London but a week, and himself. Little did they speak and if it was only to remark on a certain sight they had just spotted, and still, the silence which enveloped them was not an uncomfortable one. Darcy was rather weary at any rate, the journey being more strenuous for him with his uncomfortably fragile health, than he had imagined. One more than one occasion he drifted off into sleep, only to be woken by a bump in the road.

Shortly after noon, they arrived in Gracechurch Street and it was not without regret, that he parted with the two sisters, and with one in particular. What an exceptional woman Miss Elizabeth was. Strong minded and kind, she would make an excellent sister for Georgiana and an excellent...

With a start, Fitzwilliam Darcy realised that his friend was not the only one who had lost his heart in Hertfordshire, though at this point he needed to be cautious to not mistake gratitude for love. But surely, gratitude would not make him feel so elated, would it? And elated he felt. For the first time in months he had a reason to smile, and just to look at Miss Elizabeth's face made him feel stronger than he had since the summer, more confident that everything would be resolved in good time and turn out well in the end.



"Oh Lizzy, Jane, I am so glad to have you here. Your uncle has just now found the perfect lady to oversee the education of your younger sisters, for it was all very abrupt, I have to say. But Mrs Younge seems a very capable lady, her references are excellent and she prefers the country to town and so was quite delighted to find that she was to be employed not here with us, but in Hertfordshire," their aunt greeted them joyfully, before a small frown crossed her features. "But Lizzy, I do have to wonder about it. Pray, tell me, what has come to pass that made it necessary to take such a step? After all, you never had a governess, nor do I think your father ever considered hiring one."

With a sigh, Elizabeth related what had happened not leaving out her share in the matter, even though she was quite shocked at herself still for having berated her mother thus.

"My dearest Lizzy, this is severe indeed, though I cannot really fault you, I have to say. Still..."

"Still I should not have spoken the way I did, I am well aware of it, aunt, and believe me, I wish I could take back my words and make everything better."

"But perhaps, there is some good in what you have achieved, Lizzy," Mrs Gardiner carried on smiling again. "If Kitty and Lydia have grown as wild as you say, and I have every reason to believe they have, then engaging a governess, as late as it might seem, is an excellent undertaking, is it not?"

"Yes, I would say it is," Jane agreed readily, though Elizabeth was not quite sure it would make much difference.

For too long her sisters had been indulged by their mother and with seventeen and fifteen, their ways were already set and though Lydia was the younger, she had more hopes for Kitty. Katherine Bennet was an impressionable girl, easy to lead, even though it was usually by her younger sister and often in the wrong direction. But she was not so ignorant as to not once in a while see when she had gone astray and with this Mrs Younge, and there she trusted her aunt's and uncle's good judgement, to guide her properly, perhaps she would learn to not always follow Lydia in all her follies but to listen to her own conscience whether something was right or wrong. She said as much.

"Lydia is but fifteen, Lizzy, you cannot expect much sense from her."

"I do not expect any, and it is that which concerns me most, Aunt. And with my mother always indulging her, I fear she will get out of her lessons more often than not."

"No, Lizzy, I am sure you are wrong," Jane replied to this, having listened in silence, "Mama will see the advantage of a good education, I am sure."

And with that, the conversation ended and it was time to greet their young cousins, who had been taking their afternoon-nap when they had first arrived. With the cheerful laughter of the children, all their worries were soon forgotten and by dinner-time Elizabeth felt quite at home and at ease, confident that all would turn out well. And perhaps she would even see Mr Darcy again. One day, when once more he stayed at Netherfield with his friend, maybe?


	10. Chapter 9

"So, Lizzy, tell me, what other news do you bring?" Mrs Gardiner inquired after they had played with the children for a while, and while Jane was still doing so, being their favourite with her loving ways and gentleness.

Elizabeth told her about Mr Bingley and his sisters, about the assembly at Meryton in which she had first met the man and his friend, about Mrs Phillips having recently suffered a cold and... 

"Lydia and Kitty are quite excited about the militia being stationed at Meryton for the winter, and Mama is no less so," she said with a small sigh, refraining from rolling her eyes.

"Well, let them have a bit of flirting, at least you can trust in there being a capable lady to look after them and see that they behave with propriety," her aunt smiled understandingly.

"Yes, that is true, aunt. At least they will not be allowed to run all too wild with a governess around. But really, I do worry how much Mrs Younge will be able to achieve with my mother so determined to have her daughters married."

"Can you fault her? With the entail, it is all too understandable that she would like to see you all safe and securely established."

There was little she could say against that. Mrs Gardiner was right, and still, her mother's ways did not much to recommend any of her daughters to any real gentlemen.

"So, the young man who has brought you here has been staying with your family, I understand?"

"You mean Mr Darcy? Yes, he did, though not voluntarily. He fell ill and we had little choice but to keep him," Elizabeth blushed at her wording, unwilling to let on how much she had come to care for the man since she had known him first.

Not that she had cared for him at all then. But in caring for him along with her sisters she had gotten to know him better and better each day. And as Kitty and Lydia had insisted on her having brought him there in the first place, that it was her duty now, to once in while sit by his side to read to him and not them, she had taken the greatest share in this care. After all, even her mother agreed that they could not completely leave him to his own devices. Elizabeth had done so willingly and while in the first few days he had been mostly asleep, soon they had started to talk about all kinds of topics, though carefully avoiding what had been foremost on their minds. - His sister's situation, the letter and his injury.

"He seems to be a most honourable young man, though he did strike me as a bit pale and I thought him rather rude not to have helped you out of the carriage."

"Jane and I declined, for he would have done so willingly, Aunt, but it would not do for him to exhaust himself and the journey already was quite strenuous."

"That I easily believe. No matter how pleasant a journey is, it can be very tiring indeed, and if he had been ill so recently, I will not hold his discourtesy against him," Mrs Gardiner assured, ringing for the maid to bring some tea.



"Fitzwilliam!" Georgiana exclaimed, looking surprised, but no sooner had the smile at seeing her brother appeared on her face, it was gone again and tears threatened to brim her eyes once more, as they had done so often in the last couple of weeks.

"Georgy, how are you my dear?" he replied, knowing the answer full well.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, how can you even bear to look at me still after all I have done and how I am?"

Pulling her into his arms he kissed the top f her head before answering: "Georgy, you will always be my little sister, whom I love with all my heart, no matter what. And you should stop blaming yourself for the situation you are in. I should have taken better care of you by not just trusting Mrs Younge's references, but instead should have applied to the families she has worked for. Since then I have found that none of the references she has provided was legitimate. How these things are managed, I know not, and at any rate, it cannot be helped now. We will just have to make the best of the situation."

"But the child, Fitzwilliam?" she sobbed, her hands clinging to him even more than before.

"We will provide for it as best we can. I cannot promise for you to keep it, but all..."

"Keep it?" she cried out and let go of him abruptly, stepping back slightly, her eyes flashing with anger as he had never seen with her before. "I do not want to keep it! As a matter of fact, I want to be rid of it. I do not want to give birth to the child of this horrible, conniving, evil man."

He could not help the smile spreading over his features and placing his hands on her shoulders he said in a soft tone of voice: "I am glad to see that you, at last, decided to be angry at the right person."

Georgiana startled, looking at him wide-eyed, her mouth slightly open in her surprise. She looked so incredibly young and so horribly vulnerable, it was almost enough to break his heart. But there was also pride in her spirit, for he knew it took a great deal to let go of one's feeling of guilt, no matter how silly it had been. He had felt guilty over the very same man so often he had lost count of it, had felt wretched enough to have him lie awake at night, that this little statement from his sister, had been all he needed to know that eventually, she would heal.

"But..." she bit her lip.

"But?"

"I still should have known better."

"All you knew about George Wickham was good and honourable. Perhaps I should have told you about his machinations and doings, but I never dreamt of him trying to seduce you and make you consent to an elopement and so I thought it just as well, you did not know what a sordid kind of man he really is. I failed to protect you and..."

"And now you start blaming yourself when you have just told me it is Mr Wickham we should be angry with," she said, and suddenly looked anything but young and instead like a very wise woman.

The wisest perhaps, he had ever met.

"But Fitzwilliam, you do not look well? What is the matter?"

With some shock and some indignation at having been kept in the dark, his little sister listened to him and what he had to say.

"And once more it was because of me..." she whispered when he had finished.

"No, once again it was because of George Wickham." he smiled grimly before suddenly asking, just as the thought had crossed his mind: "Georgy, do you feel up to a dinner with some friends?"

“I think I might be, but surely you need to rest first, for you look awfully pale.”

“But...”

“No brother, for once let me take care of you. When you are recovered, I will arrange the dinner, but not before.”


	11. Chapter 10

They had just met Mrs Younge for the very first time and had been delighted with her – or rather Jane had been delighted as Elizabeth thought her perhaps a bit too young and complying to deal with two such boisterous girls as Kitty and Lydia. But she certainly knew how to behave with propriety without being pompous like Miss Bingley and her sister.

"I am so looking forward to meeting your younger sisters," she had said with a warm smile and had delicately sipped on her tea.

"They are good girls if a bit wild, perhaps," Jane had replied, while Elizabeth bit her tongue lest something discourteous should escape her.

It was bad enough that she had lost her temper with her mother, it would not do to speak uncharitably about her younger sisters and to their new governess nonetheless. No, the woman should have every chance to see the good in them and to deal without prejudice with their, unfortunately many, faults.

"So, where have you worked before then?" Elizabeth instead asked after several instances and listened with some interest to the many positions the woman had held. 

But something in the sheer number of her positions also made her wary, for she could not be much older than Charlotte Lucas with her eight and twenty years.

"Oh, and my last position was with the Hudsons. It is very unfortunate that Colonel Hudson had to move to the West Indies, but there was nothing he could do about it. You know how the military is, and so there was nothing much he could do, though his wife would rather have stayed in England."

"That I can well imagine, though I have to admit that I have not really got around much myself," Elizabeth answered, satisfied at least with the explanation why the lady's last position had been terminated, though still wondering about all the others.

Then again, if her aunt and uncle had been satisfied, why should she worry? It was not as if her uncle was easily misled in a matter of business such as this.

Still, in the evening she could not help speaking to Jane about her doubts regarding the young woman who was to rear her younger sisters, and to a certain extent both of them as well.

"Oh, Lizzy, I think there will be a very rational explanation for it, to be sure. Just think of our family, even though Lydia is only fifteen, her stay will, in all likeliness not exceed two to three years. Or, perhaps she has stayed with families who had mainly boys and once they had gone off to school, she was no longer required. No, I think she is a very amiable person."

As Jane never thought badly of a human being, this did little to distract Elizabeth from her own opinion. Dire images came to mind, as she thought of Mr Darcy and his sister. From all she had heard, Miss Darcy had been a very tractable girl, well behaved and even a bit shy, though, of course, her brother would find her so, as she had soon found how much he doted on his little sister. A smile spread across her features at thinking about the man in question and her heart beat a bit faster.



The remainder of the week passed rather quickly. Once more they met with Mrs Younge, while the rest of the time they spent shopping, as Mary had asked for a couple of religious books she wanted to read and which were nowhere to be had in Meryton, while Kitty and Lydia had asked for some new ribbons, and fabric for a new dress each, and their mother was not to be forgotten either, for she, too, was in desperate need of a new fan, some ostrich feathers, 'for you there are no better ones to be had than at Sommerton's', and a new pair of gloves. In short, both Jane and Elizabeth alongside their aunt who accompanied them on most of their excursions were kept rather busy.

"Jane, look at this fabric, is it not beautiful?" Elizabeth asked her older sister.

"Yes, it is indeed." Jane acknowledged

"I think, that perhaps you should take some yards to have a dress made from it, it would suit you perfectly."

"But Lizzy, it is too costly."

"Not if I give you some of my money," Elizabeth smiled and took the bale of fabric over to the counter to be cut.

"No, I cannot have you spent so much money on me!"

"And I will do it all the same."

They walked back home, laden with goods, though most of it would be delivered, and then took to packing Jane's trunk, for she and Mrs Younge would leave in the morning. Not once had they heard from Mr Darcy, though Elizabeth was not much surprised at it. After all, his doctor had recommended that he should still rest and if possible keep to his bed. Again she had to smile at the thought of him, for he had not been pleased to be told such.

"I am perfectly fine, I can assure you, Doctor," he had argued on their way to London, though his eyes had drooped.

"You might think you are, but this wound is by no means healed as yet and unless you want to have it infected again, I must insist on it."

There Darcy had looked at her with a wry grin on his face and a slight shrug of his shoulders.  
If she was honest, she missed him. After the initial insult and his subsequent fever, he had been quite friendly, witty even, in a slightly shy and bashful manner. And with her mother who thought him unpleasant, proud and haughty she could not agree. No, he was perfectly amiable.

"Lizzy, are you well?" Jane at last inquired.

"Yes, I am quite well, thank you. A bit tired perhaps, but then again, shopping always makes me tired. I was only lost in thought."

"And what were you thinking about?"

Jane had raised an inquisitive eyebrow and Elizabeth blushed at having been caught day-dreaming about a certain gentleman.

"Oh, nothing in particular."

"You quite like Mr Darcy, do you not?"

"Oh Jane, I admit I do."

There she sighed, but as it was not in her disposition to stay woeful for any amount of time, she soon grinned at her sister and teased: "And you, are you looking forward to seeing Mr Bingley again?"

Now it was Jane's turn to blush and eventually both of them dissolved in giggles.


	12. Chapter 11

Grudgingly Fitzwilliam Darcy had to admit that Doctor Hamilton had been correct with his assessment. The journey had weakened him again and a slight fever was the result of it. But it was so good to be home, to know his sister safe and so the rise of temperature only lasted until the next afternoon and never went too high. Two days passed in blissful peacefulness and he and Georgiana quickly settled into a quiet routine, which did both of them well. They spoke a lot about this and that, but neither dared venture to mention the one subject that was uppermost on their minds.

The week was almost over when a letter arrived at their townhouse and brought with it all the misery they had now suffered for the past few months. With shaking hands Darcy took it from the silver tray it had been delivered on by his footman and then stumbled into his study, knowing full well what it would contain. And sure enough, it did not contain more than a few lines, but these lines were more than enough to make his heart clench and his blood boil:

Darcy,  
how are you, old friend? How is your dear sister? Still pining over losing me?  
By the way, might I remind you of our agreement? I know it is a bit earlier than we had agreed on, I know, however, as I am a poor man, I actually require the money a bit sooner than anticipated. But I am sure it will not make much of a difference to you, will it? After all, I am sure you would not want your sister's loss of virtue known to the world. By the way, I have heard she has been sick lately. She will not die I hope.  
Anyway, same place, same time on the morrow.  
Yours etc.  
G.W.

Crumpling up the letter, he threw it into the fire where it quickly burst into flames. They had agreed on an annual payment of two thousand Pounds, to be paid quarterly, but this now was the third demand within little more than four months.

"Oh, this dastard!" he cried out addressing no-one but the walls. "This conniving, filthy little blackguard!"

Many more curses went through his head, but he kept them to himself, for it would not do if any of the servants, would hear him shout like a madman – or even worse, Georgiana. But if Wickham carried on gambling away the money as he currently did, Darcy did not know how he should satisfy his demands for more and more for though he had ten thousand a year at his disposal, he was pretty sure that Wickham would not care if he had to exceed his income. He never had, neither with his own income nor with that of others – well, particularly not with that others. And yet, what other option was there aside from Georgiana's certain ruin? Did she not deserve to be happy? No, it must not be, he had to pay him.

All that his mind had suppressed for the past couple of days came back and with slumped shoulders he sat there, tears streaming down his face in all his pathetic helplessness. How could it had ever gotten this far? Had he not burdens enough to carry anyway? And all on his own?

The image of Elizabeth's Bennet's kind, pretty face flared up in his mind, soothing him momentarily. If only he could dare... But no! What had he to offer but misery? He would never do that to the woman he loved.

"The woman I love..." he whispered, shocked at the realisation that indeed he did so.

For sure, they had not known each other for long, but he had never come across a woman like her ever before. She was witty, and intelligent, kind and caring, lively and yet humble, not like all those ladies from society he had to constantly deal with in London. She would make a wonderful mother to his children... - No, it must not be, he was in no position to make her happy, for the shadows which hung over him, were dark and ominous and as yet, he had not seen a way out. Not one that would utterly and completely destroy his sister and his good name. And yet, yes, when, only for a moment he allowed himself to dream, he could almost see them, a couple of boys and girls, with their parents' dark hair and her lively eyes, he could hear their laughter and feel his and Elizabeth's pride in them, feel their love. His heart swelled until it felt as if it were hammering against his chest.

If only he could have met her a year ago. If only he had taken better care in choosing a governess for Georgiana. If only he had never agreed to have them go to Ramsgate, but to Pemberley instead. But then again, there had been a cough that had not gone away since his little sister had fallen ill in winter, and the seaside, after all, was most beneficial with respiratory diseases, he knew that well.

Yes, if only...



It was past ten when he sneaked out of the house. Georgiana had already retired, but he preferred not to be seen by his staff either. Darcy had even gone as far as to order a hack chaise and not to his doorstep, but to the end of the street so that no-one would be any the wiser. Or at least so he hoped. With some trepidation, he sat there in the stuffy chaise bound eastward, to a part of London famed for its gambling dens and brothels. What an apt surrounding for a fiend like Wickham! Not that he had never strayed there himself when he had first come out in society back when his father was still alive. Then the knowledge to do something forbidden, something no-one ever spoke of, had been a thrilling one, now it seemed a lifetime ago and it did leave a bitter aftertaste.

The carriage stopped in front of one of the many boarding houses and he entered it, only to leave it again through the back door, which led out into a dark and claustrophobic alleyway, which he hurried down to an almost hidden door, onto which, in turn, he knocked three times. It was opened by a gaudy looking woman in her late thirties, her profession easy to guess by the scantiness of her clothes, if one could call a thin chemise such, that was, and the 'gaudiness' of her makeup.

"I am here to see Mr Wickham," he said in a steady voice, though he felt anything but steady.

"Really, love?" she purred in an insinuating manner. "And what would a fine gentleman such as you be wanting from Mr Wickham?"

"We have business to attend to," Darcy answered through gritted teeth.

Her perfume was heavy and nauseating and even standing on the doorstep of the brothel had him smell the sweat and liquor from within. He was well aware that the only reason why Wickham insisted on them meeting there, was to humiliate him even further, not because it was a particularly convenient place for either of them. Well, thinking of it, perhaps it was for Wickham, for he doubted that once here, the man would leave quite as soon as he himself did. It also held the advantage, that Darcy had not the slightest clue as to where his former childhood-friend was currently living.

"So, business, you call it," the harlot carried on, her smile widening. "Well then come in, honey."

As he stepped past her, she leaned forward to brush against him and before he knew it, she began nibbling his ear.

"Enjoying yourself, I see," a sneering voice piped up, just as Darcy attempted to push the woman aside without being too rough.

"By no means, Wickham."

"Why, you should loosen up a bit," his nemesis smirked, coming towards him with a swagger.

"I am only here on business, and you know that," Darcy spat, unable to conceal his contempt and discomfort any longer and at last, the lady stepped back, pouting, which oddly enough reminded him of Caroline Bingley.

"Well well, what other business could one have in a brothel than to enjoy the women?" Wickham smiled honey sweet. "Do you not want to come upstairs? I would be willing to share."

"Definitely not!"

The thought alone was disgusting enough to make him feel nauseated. 

With swfit steps, Darcy walked across the small foyer and towards the dingy booth they always used, down at the end of the hallway, where the stench of sweat and something even more carnal, was particularly strong. The moans and rhythmic bangs and squeaks of ancient overstrained bed springs left little to the imagination of what was going on behind the doors leading off the passage, and Darcy dearly hoped he would not blush. He was a man of the world, after all. It would just not do to show such weakness.

"So, I see you were complying, Darcy," Wickham started to speak again, as soon as the door was closed behind them.

"Do I have another choice?"

Wickham's smile only widened in answer to his question.

"Five hundred, as you have requested," Darcy carried on, pulling out his purse, the coins within clinking.

Despite his fury, he managed to sound as calm as if he were discussing the weather, though his hand was shaking from his self-restraint. Why, oh why was it not legal to kill such scum? Not that he really considered that an option, for would he not be even worse than George Wickham ever had been if he took a man's life?

"Brilliant. That should do for the moment," the very man grinned casually, sounding equally unconcerned, storing away the money carefully, yet oddly enough avoiding Darcy's gaze.

Well, it seemed he had some conscience left in him... - And yet, when Wickham did finally look up it was with a glint in his eyes that told him very clearly, that he would never be free from this man, if he did not do something actively, and soon.


	13. Chapter 12

It was a matter of course, that neither cab not cabbie were anywhere to be seen when he returned to the corner where he had left them. Well, he should have known better than to pay the man in advance. It was well past midnight now and though the streets were still busy, mainly with ladies of the night and their half-drunken clients, there was no other carriage to be had. With a sigh, Fitzwilliam Darcy made his way on foot through the dark and grimy streets of this part of town, glad to have taken his loaded walking stick with him and not just the cane he normally used. The lead-weight in the handle was heavy, heavy enough for some well-aimed blows, should someone dare attack him, but still he felt far from secure. Despite wearing his shabbiest clothes, he still looked too much like a gentleman and that he was approached by several prostitutes on his way westward, where hopefully would find a chaise, was yet another testimony to it.

"Hello, darling," a heavily painted girl of at most sixteen cooed at him, her eyes bloodshot and two unsightly scars marring her face, "fancy a little ride?"

He only shook his head in the hopes she would go and find another target, but she was persistent, reaching for his arm to which she clung with unwavering determination.

"Oh, come now, sir, no need to be shy. I know just the right treatment for you," she carried on, licking her lips.

"I doubt it," he muttered averting his eyes.

His shyness was never so inconvenient as it was right now, for he never knew how to be firm and yet kind with such poor creatures as the one attached to his arm at present. But before he could say anything more anyway, she reached down and between his legs, rubbing insinuatingly against his breeches.

"Are you sure, darling?" she asked, her face coming ever so much nearer to his. "I know my craft, you know, sweety?"

Her breath was heavy with gin and her teeth were rotten and black. He pitied her, but at the same time disgust welled up inside of him and almost made him retch.

"Yes, I am sure. And now get off of me!"

"Oi! What are you doing with my girl?" a man suddenly came up behind them.

Of course, where there was a harlot, there was a pimp!

The man looked just as unruly and dirty as his involuntary companion, but at least he was equally intoxicated and though he seemed a massive kind of man, his staggering gait showed that should it come to it, it would be fairly easy to defend himself.

"Absolutely nothing. Get her away from me and take her home."

"Aye, sir, but it'll cost you a farthing, for I have none of this nonsense of having my daughter grope you for your own pleasure and then have her leave without paying for the services she has done you."

Darcy swallowed. What father would send his daughter out on the streets at night? Reaching into his pocket he paid the farthing, knowing better than to argue with such kind of folk. Then suddenly an idea struck him.

"If I paid you a shilling, would you bring me over to London Bridge?"

The man's eyes widened as did the girl's.

"Polly, go home to your mother, she's been coughing blood again, so you might need to bring out the slop, I'll escort the gentleman as he asks," the man, at last, said, sobering up somewhat at the prospect of earning such a substantial amount of money.

Suddenly Darcy felt ashamed. What were his own troubles compared to the ones these poor creatures suffered? What was social ruin compared to such dire need, such life-threatening poverty that had a father and mother send out their daughter to sell herself on the street to any random man willing to pay for her services?

"For how long has your wife been sick?" he inquired after they had walked on in silence for about ten minutes.

"About three months. Caught it in the streets. She'll die soon, but that is the way it is, ain't it?" the resigned cheerfulness of the man's voice stood in stark contrast to his woeful expression. "Dunno what we'll do then. The baby is not weaned off yet. Which is just as well, for at least we don't need to pay for it, you know?"

Darcy did not dare ask if anything had been done to help the poor woman, for to even get an apothecary or a quack cost money. More money in all likeliness than they could afford.

"What is your name?" he asked instead.

"Tom Norris, sir. Used to be a tenant farmer up north. But then my master decided he'd rather up in sheep instead of working the land and I was no longer needed. I was thrown out of my home, the farm that had been worked by my family for centuries. We thought we might make our fortune here, but what did we know about town-living? I worked here and there, but it never was enough, so my wife took to the streets as did my eldest, Polly. It's still not enough, I tell you."

Deep in thought, Darcy walked on. Now, there was a man who was resigned to his fate, for he had no means to change it. But he had! And it was time to do something actively. He had wallowed in despair and self-pity for long enough without making his situation any better. But if he stepped back a little, tried to approach the problem from another angle, perhaps he could do something to get out of this blasted business unscathed.

But first things first. He could not listen to the story of this man any longer without feeling that he ought to do something for him. He might not be able to help all the wretched souls gathering in this city, but at least this one family he could help. And he would!

"Mr Norris," he began just as London Bridge appeared ahead of them, "I have a proposition to make. I have an estate in Derbyshire and am currently looking for an under-gardener. And there is always a position for a girl such as your daughter either in the laundry or the scullery. I know it is not the same as being a tenant, but at least you and your family would be provided for. You would have a roof over your head and food on the table and..."

He did not get any further with his speech, for Tom Norris had stopped dead in his tracks, his expression one of disbelief until, with an exclamation of sheer joy, he embraced him, sobbing into his shoulder.

"You, sir, are the best of men! If you really would take such a pathetic wretch as I, I would be forever in your debt."

"It is the least I can do. And if you call at No. 6 – Street at one later today, we can talk over all the particulars."

"I will, sir. I thank you, sir!" Norris beamed, letting go of him.

"Then until one, Mr Norris" Darcy bowed, quite embarrassed, for though he had meant to help, the exuberant joy which his offer had caused, had exceeded his expectations.

He crossed the bridge and, as the morning neared, found a cart bound for Westminster. It was by no means the carriage he had hoped for, but his leg felt sore and he was tired to the bone and any means of transport that would bring him closer to home, at this point was welcome to him. Another couple of hours and the sun would rise and he needed to rest in order to tackle his own problems with a clear head.


	14. Chapter 13

He had slept surprisingly well after his little adventure, but meeting with a man like Tom Norris, had not only touched his heart, it had also made him see more clearly now in regards to his own situation. He, Fitzwilliam Darcy, was by no means a pawn in the game of life. He had the power, the connections and the means to get everything back under control, and so, having made up his mind that he no longer would be played by Wickham, nor his sister's situation, even before he had reached home, a plan had begun to form.

First of all, he needed to get Georgiana away from London, and fairly quickly before her condition got known, while at the same time it needed to be done in such a way, that it would not rouse too many suspicions. This, of course, was easier said than done, but he would find a way, and if both of them went on a journey. The thought of him not being able to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet for any length of time, however, was a horrible one.

'But perhaps, you do not need to part from her at all...' a soft voice whispered in his head as he fell asleep, exhausted by the long walk through the roughest parts of London.



He woke up several hours later, roused by his valet who had come to see if he was well, for under normal circumstances he never slept in and his recent illness had made the man vigilant.

"Yes, thank you, I am fine," Darcy yawned, slipping out of bed, at last, the dim sunlight filling his chamber and the noise from the street drifting up to him despite the windows being closed.

But the metal wheels of the many chaises on the cobblestones, the chatter of the parties walking by and the occasional neighing of a horse, were quite familiar to him, being the normal background noise of a city hustling and bustling with hundreds and thousands of people, and even though the street he lived in was, at least for London-standards, a quiet one, with visits being paid and tea-gatherings and the like even outside the Season, it was rarely as silent as he liked it. Pemberley was to be much preferred to the busyness of town.

It was, against his fears, well before midday, which was fortunate, for he still needed to sort out a few things in regards to Mr Norris and his family. He could hardly expect the man to make his way to Derbyshire on his own, not with a sick wife and a baby in tow, while at the same time, for exactly that reason, he was bound to make haste to get the destitute family thither and out if the horrible environment they currently lived in.

"Dawson, I am expecting a visitor later today. It is a Mr Norris, could you please make sure he will be received kindly, for I am well aware that his appearance might be a bit raggedy."

"Yes, Sir. Of course," was all his valet's reply, as he tied his master's cravat as neatly as ever.

At that moment, there was a ring at the door and Darcy shook his head slightly. The man was overly punctual, it seemed. All the better!

But when Darcy, at last, had made his way downstairs, he was not met with Tom Norris, but with a man, he had hardly expected to see anytime soon.

"Richard!"

"Ah, I see you have not forgotten about your dear old cousin," Richard Fitzwilliam smiled broadly, getting up from the uncomfortable chair he had sat down in.

"I was not aware that you would return to England just yet."

"Well, I had not expected it myself, but I made a request, due to Anne's health, and it was granted and so here I am."

"And Anne?"

"Oh, she is currently staying at her mother's in Kent."

"How is she?"

"Well considering the circumstances," his cousin replied off-handedly, though his tone of voice showed that he was concerned about his wife's well-being. "And you? You look awfully pale, Darcy."

Sighing he began his tale, and he had not quite finished when at last, his companion from the night before appeared. But dealing with Mr Norris, proved to be a fairly quick business. The man was overjoyed by the prospect of returning back to the country and being provided for. To him, it did not matter that he only earned very little money, as long as he and his family had a roof over their heads and food on their table and that, with the position he had been offered, would certainly be the case and that was that. With a twinge of sadness, Darcy realised, that the man thought himself in no way in any position to negotiate, and again, he felt rather silly for having felt so trapped before, when he had all the means to deal with his family problems.

"Who was that then?" Richard inquired, as soon as the man had left again, some ten minutes after he had arrived, happy to have gained the position and with the prospect of leaving within the week when some of his new master's servants would be going back to Pemberley to prepare for Christmas. 

For sure, it was a bit early, but what did it matter? He had to make arrangements somehow, and this was just as good an excuse as any.

"I met him last evening on a rather unwelcome outing," Darcy explained, though in a manner that was bound to raise more questions.

But that actually was his design, for though he had told the colonel about his fight with Wickham and the subsequent wound, he had not as yet gotten as far as Georgiana's predicament and Wickham's blackmail.

"Only you could find an outing unwelcome, Darcy."

"This outing, cousin, even you would have thought to be so. There is more to the tale I have told you, much more. I have told you I was shot by Wickham in a squabble, and that is perfectly true. What I have not yet told you, is how it came about, and I will do so, now."

"Dear me! You do look severe, man. Was it over a woman? - If she could not decide between Wickham and you, then she is not worth pining over."

"It was over a woman, so much is true, but not the way you suspect. The lady in question is Georgiana."

"Good God!"

"You remember, perhaps, that she suffered some respiratory infection last spring and the cough would just not go, so Mrs Younge suggested to send her to the seaside, and I thought it a brilliant idea. However, I am sorry to say, that I was most dreadfully deceived by Mrs Younge, for she permitted Wickham into their society and he then proceeded to pretend to be in love with Georgiana. She, young as she is, was very flattered and quickly accepted his proposal. But Wickham did not want to wait, and so he tried to persuade her to elope – of which Georgiana had none of. She insisted on being married properly and with my sanction, which, of course, I never would have given. Knowing this, Wickham then made sure Georgiana would see no other way out but to do as he thought fit."

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam stared at him open-mouthed, not quite sure what to make of this last statement, though understanding enough to know that it probably meant the worst.

"Did he...? - Did he dishonour her?" he, at last, spoke, though so quietly it was barely discernible.

Darcy only nodded, pouring a glass of brandy for them both and only when he had downed his, after handing the other one to his cousin, did he continue.

"Two days before I chanced upon them on their way to Gretna, I received a very disturbing letter from Georgiana"

Getting up, he opened the top drawer of his desk and retrieved it, handing it to his cousin, who eagerly read it.

My dearest brother,  
Ramsgate at this time of year is most lovely. Mrs Younge was right in suggesting that what I needed, was some fresh, clean sea-air and it already has helped me improve a lot. We have not many acquaintances here, but I have to say I prefer the peace and quiet and the few social obligations that we have, for admittedly I have felt rather weak this past couple of months and so it is very beneficial to my health to be able to idle around a bit, improve my skills on the harp, though I have to say, that I still prefer the pianoforte, for while the harp is a very elegant instrument, a piano is so much more versatile. I draw a lot as well, and I am proud to say, that we will have a couple of new pictures to hang up at Pemberley once we return there. Oh, I miss Pemberley, as nice as it is here, and I miss you, brother. I wish you could be here with me, though I am well aware that business keeps you in London. But, if you find the time, I greatly entreat you to come by and rescue me from complete boredom, for though I like the peace and quiet, on occasion, it can get a little lonely.  
I wish I could tell you anything more, but as said, nothing much has happened since last I wrote and I dare doubt you are too interested in the new bonnet I have recently bought. - It is a very plain one anyway, made from straw with nothing but a light pink silk ribbon and a matching flower as a trim, but I think it suits me very well, and so does Mrs Younge. It is nothing, of course, that I could wear in town, but for the country, it is very delightful.  
Oh, I have also started to collect seashells and intend to make a picture out of them. I have seen the like around here and I think the idea is charming. I have never seen the like before. But nature is art in itself, is it not? Even now as I am writing, several shells, which I have picked up this morning, are lying on my desk and their intricate patterns, their shimmer, their shape. It is magical! There are heart-shaped ones, and spiral ones, which almost look like a unicorn-horn, and then there are others who are so very oddly shaped, that I can hardly describe them – but perhaps the blade of a butter knife might be best suitable to do so.  
The other day Mrs Younge and I went out and along the pier where an old lady sold steamed winkles in a lather of butter with fresh parsley and I tell you, they were delicious. I presume Miss Bingley would be scandalised to hear that I have eaten anything of a street-vendor, but I hope you will not be so, for I know your own inquisitiveness, and upon having my nose filled up with this delicious smell, I just had to try them.  
It is getting nice and warm now, at last, but it is still incredibly windy at times. Then again, it is something to see the ships go by with their sails all white and billowing. While I occasionally wish I could go on a voyage and travel across the seas, I am not sure I would like being trapped on board for weeks on end and with so many people there is no escaping them. No, thinking about it, I presume I am better off where I am, dreaming of faraway countries instead of really going there.  
For now, I think I have rambled on enough, but you will soon hear from me again and have some more of my nonsense to read, my poor brother, for I am sure you must think me prodigiously silly, and perhaps I am.  
Yours, etc.  
Georgiana

"Well, disturbing indeed!" cried out Colonel Fitzwilliam, as soon as he had finished the missive.

"But admittedly quite ingenious."

"Yes, I would not have thought my little sister so inventive. No sooner had I read the letter, I was on my way. I met them in -ly, meaning Georgiana and Wickham. Quite by chance, for it was only due to one of my horses having thrown a shoe that I even stopped there. I went inside to get a glass of ale for me and the coachman when I saw them. Wickham engaged in a game of cards and my sister sat by his side, trapped in the corner of the stall they were seated in. Perhaps I have acted a bit rash when I drew my pistol, but I assure you, I had no intention to actually use it. I only wanted to free Georgiana. Well, the rest you already know, and in the end, all that matters is, that Georgiana is safe now. However, there is now another difficulty which has only been confirmed a little more than two weeks ago. - She is with child."

"Damn! This bastard... - This bloody, ruddy son of a bitch! I will show him what happens to a man who messes with my charge! I will have his guts for this, I swear."

"While I completely agree with your sentiment, I think revenge is a dish better served cold – icy cold. And I have just now started to think things over in a more detached way, for, believe me, only yesterday, I was as angry as you are at present, and with no capacity to think straight. - It was actually Mr Norris, my acquaintance from last night, who showed me that one should never stop fighting no matter what life throws at one, and that though my position is in no way enviable it is by no means hopeless."

"So, have you come up with anything yet?"

"No, but considering Georgiana's condition, the first step to take will be to get her out of town and hide her away without raising suspicions, until the baby is born."

"I think with that I can help you, Darcy. And then we will see what to do with that dastard of a man!"


	15. Chapter 14

"So, what have you to suggest in regards to the baby?" Darcy inquired after an interval of rather heavy silence as his cousin's mind seemed to stray and he got the feeling that he, perhaps, was not the only one to have his share of sorrow.

Taking a deep breath Richard Fitzwilliam pinched the bridge of his nose as if what he had to say was something that had troubled him for some time.

"Ah, well, Darcy, truth be told, I am almost relieved about Georgiana being with child. - No, I do not want to see her ruined by any means, but you might understand what I mean once you have listened. As you well know, Anne has never been very healthy and our stay abroad has not done her any good at all. I worry about her, to be honest, and I truly hope that her stay in Kent will do her some good, I will join her as soon as I can after I have finished my own and the military's business I have been charged with. But with Anne's delicate health, it is completely out of the question that we should ever have children of our own..."

Darcy only gaped at him, shocked at this revelation, both about his other cousin's state of health as well as the suggestion which was implied as to who would take on the child once it was born.

Carrying on undeterred, Fitzwilliam added: "Now, Anne has always wanted children as did I. I might only be a second son, but even though my portion is a small one, I still have an estate for which I would like an heir. So, when she heard the doctor's diagnosis, that not only would he not recommend her bearing one, but that she was also unable to do so physically, she was devastated. - So much so, that she asked me to take a mistress, and have her bear our children. Now to this scheme I greatly object. You know my feelings on the subject, one either takes the wedding vows seriously or refrains from getting married."

Yes, Darcy knew his cousin's opinion and heartily agreed with him on that score. 

Once again Elizabeth Bennet's picture was conjured up by his mind, making him almost smile. No, he could never think of betraying her! - And the colonel loved his wife quite as much as he loved... - As he loved Elizabeth. He swallowed as he realised that while his mind had been overly occupied with his problems, his heart had been irrevocably lost to her. She had become his hope, his consolation and his desire, a matter of his heart and his care. Not seeing her for almost a whole week had been quite horrible, for all his waking hours, when his mind had not been occupied with his sister's and his own predicament, had been dedicated to thinking of her. Though admittedly he had not had as much time as he would have liked thinking of her.

"I would have agreed to take on a child from an orphanage, but truth be told, I much rather know that my future son or daughter is in some way related to us," his cousin carried on, his face having assumed an almost anxious expression now.

Once again, silence enveloped the room as both men pondered on their own situation which all of a sudden had been so much relieved. How, only days, nay hours before, could he have thought his situation so very dire? Again his mind strayed towards the Norris-family and Darcy felt even more silly. He had relatives who could have helped him, had he reached out to them. For sure, they would not have been pleased, but neither would they have refused their aid. But no, his pride had gotten in the way and he just had to shoulder everything on his own. 

"Thank you, Richard," Darcy at last said. "This is the best possible solution I could have wished for. Not that I did not wish, from my heart, that you and Anne could have children of your own, but considering circumstances, I presume this is as good as it can possibly get, is it not?"

Nodding with a wry smile on his face, his cousin answered: "It looks as if we both need to learn how to share our burdens, does it not?"

"Oh, yes!"

The mood which only moments before had been so gloomy, suddenly lifted and both started to laugh, laugh until the sound of their hearty chuckles brought Miss Darcy to the door, inquiring what was the matter. Georgiana looked pale, but composed, though her eyes were red-rimmed as so often of late. 

"Cousin!" she cried out in astonishment, but as soon as her eyes met Richard's, she lowered them again in shame.

"My dear little cousin," the man smiled back, getting up to bow to her.

Flustered and close to tears she curtsied and was about to hurry out of the room again when Darcy held her back.

"Georgiana, wait! Do not leave."

"But..."

"No 'but', little one, this concerns you as much as either of us," Darcy pointed at the colonel and then himself before pulling out a chair for her.

Realising what their discussion must have been about, the young woman braced herself and with a look of desperate self-defiance faced her two closest relatives, her two guardians whom she loved dearly and whom she had never wanted to disappoint. 

"I presume my brother has told you about my situation then?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper, and yet it was firm, showing a determination to face whatever there was to face.

"Yes, cousin, Darcy has told me about your situation, and also how it came to pass. I am sorry that such a thing had to happen to you and I am outraged that Mrs Younge did not interfere. But I am also proud of you, for having managed to alarm your brother."

The puzzled look on Georgiana's face did not escape the two men.

"What do you mean?"

"Your letter, of course," the colonel reached for the missive which still lay on the side table next to his chair, handing it to her.

"Yes, I remember writing this. I had to start a couple of times, for every time I had started to cry and my tears blotted the ink in a way that it was near unreadable."

Reaching for her hand her brother handed her his handkerchief, to wipe away the tears which still streaked her cheeks. 

"But to underline the necessary words which would alarm me, was very clever, dear."

"That might as well be, but I did not do it. I have no idea who might have. I gave the letter to Mary to be posted and then went to get my things ready together with Mrs Younge. I am not sure I could have done it on my own."

"She should never have let you in Wickham's company in the first place!" Darcy spat, all his anger at the man rising to the surface once again.

If he wanted to pay the man back, he really needed to start to stay calm. At least Mrs Younge had been taken care of and she had been dismissed without any references – a harsh treatment when one was dependant on earning one's living. But it served her right for betraying his sister so, and having deceived him about her reputation. For what kind of reputation could a woman have who conspired with a man like George Wickham?

"Oh dear, I need to leave as I have an appointment at the war office in little more than half an hour and with General Clarke it is always better to be ten minutes early than even to be punctual. I think I have told you about the man, have I not?"

Both brother and sister nodded, for General Clarke was quite a figure, a short man with his hair in constant disarray, a constant frown on his face, a temper equalling that of his height, and a very sharp tongue. Darcy had met him in person, and there was little doubt that if his cousin's appointment was to be in half an hour, he had every reason to make haste. As much as he would have preferred to get on with the conversation, for some things stayed as unresolved as they had been in the morning and at this point he was still not sure what to do about the blackmail and where Georgiana was to stay during the remainder of her pregnancy, but Colonel Fitzwilliam promised to return on the morrow so they could continue and until then, he could think over everything placidly and calmly.



"Brother?" Georgiana suddenly asked over dinner, startling him, for though at the beginning of the meal they had spoken a little, soon both were quite happy to simply sit and eat without the need for any shallow conversation which could easily be spoken of in front of the servants.

"Yes?"

"You said you wished to invite your friends from Hertfordshire and I agreed to it once you felt better. I think you do, for this evening you look a lot better than the previous couple of days."

She smiled knowingly as if she suspected his true feelings – and perhaps she did, for, as he looked at his sister, suddenly he realised how much of a woman she had become over the last couple of months. 

"And you are sure you are up to it?" Darcy carefully inquired, hoping she would answer in the affirmative.

Which she did. 

"Yes. If they are as amiable as you told me, I think I myself would like a bit of company."

"You have been lonely, have you not?" 

While she was not yet out in society, Georgiana still had met with friends and acquaintances quite frequently, until Wickham had re-introduced himself into her life, almost destroying her. 

"I have. - Moreover, I am."

"But I am here now, Georgie."

"Yes, and I am glad you are. But still, sometimes I feel as if I was stranded on a lonely island so very far from everyone else. - I still need a bit of time it seems. I do trust you, never doubt that William, but please do not expect me to trust your friends. I cannot quite explain why I feel this way, but I will be alright in the end, I promise."

Getting up from the dinner table, Fitzwilliam Darcy pulled his sister out of her chair to wrap his arms around her comfortingly.

"I understand, my pet. I do, even though I cannot even begin to understand what you must have suffered. You shall have all the time in the world, but for now, I will write a letter to Miss Bennet and invite her in our name, along with her sister and her aunt and uncle and I am sure you will like her as much as I do."

It was difficult to hide the extent of his enthusiasm, and the joy he felt on the prospect of seeing Elizabeth Bennet again, and consequently Georgiana's answer was, emphasised by a lopsided grin: "I think that is hardly possible, dear William. No matter how much I shall like this Miss Bennet, I will never be able to like her as much as you do."

And with that, she left him to his task.

'Oh, shall I compare thee to a summer's day?(1)' - the lines read many years ago suddenly came to mind as he sat down at his writing table after dinner. Lines which once he had rejected as being foolish. But now? No, now they did not seem so foolish anymore, for is not everyone a fool in love anyway?

 

(1): William Shakespeare, Sonnet 18:   
Oh, shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:   
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;   
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;  
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;   
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,  
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.


	16. Chapter 15

"Oh, Lizzy, was it not a delightful play?" Jane sighed as they returned from the theatre late in the evening.

It was Jane's last night in London, as in the morning she would return to Longbourn together with Mrs Younge and her uncle's manservant, using the post chaise.

"Yes, it was very romantic," Elizabeth replied thoughtfully.

They had gone to see 'Romeo and Juliet' with their aunt and uncle, and though she had liked it, she had neither thought of it as delightful nor very romantic. In fact, the one word that was foremost in her mind was tragic, but Jane did not need to know that. If her sister preferred to think about the play as being romantic, so be it.

Repeatedly over the last few days, her mind had strayed towards Mr Darcy and she could not help wondering how he was. She would not admit it, but there seemed a bond between her and the dour man, that had her somewhat flustered. Though, she doubted that under normal circumstances he would be so very severe and if he was so now, who could fault him. There had been glimpses of a very different person while he was staying at her father's house, glimpses of a person she greatly liked and her heart bled at seeing him so very low in spirits. Yet another thing, Jane need not know, for her sister, pure and good at heart would never believe just how dire his situation truly was.  
They carried on talking for another half-hour and at last fell asleep when the excitement over the unusual treat of the evening had finally worn off.

Elizabeth's dreams were restless, however, and she tossed and turned in her bed. Pictures of her younger sisters being ruined came to mind and had her in a firm grasp till the sun rose again. What was it about Mrs Younge that she did not quite trust? For the lady seemed perfectly amiable and capable and yet, there was something about her, that did not agree with Elizabeth at all.

Yet never one to ponder over gloomy thoughts for very long, she quickly got out of bed, washed and dressed and was ready even before Jane stirred. She usually was the first down for breakfast at home and used to country hours this habit was even more prominent in town.  
To her surprise, however, she found her uncle sitting in the breakfast-parlour already, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper, looking ready to go out.

"Ah, Lizzy, you are up early as always," Mr Gardiner smiled, folding up the paper.

"Yes, as always," Lizzy smiled, sitting down in her usual spot at the table.

"I hope you have slept well?"

"Oh, I did," Elizabeth lied.

She had never been any good at telling untruths and with a side glance, her uncle inquired: "Come now, what is bothering you? Is it that handsome young gentleman that brought you here?"

She blushed but shook her head. Should she tell him how uneasy she felt about their new governess? Well, she just as well might.

"I am not exactly sure why I am worried, but I have a feeling Mrs Younge not to be the right person to teach Kitty and Lydia."

"You think her too young?"

"Yes. - But that is not it. If I could put a finger on it, it would not worry me so. I am not even sure whether it is in her behaviour or in something she said that has me so suspicious, and in the end, I might as well be misjudging her."

"Ah, all will be well, I am sure. You never had a governess and it might just be that it is the change you are resenting. For a change it will be," Mr Gardiner assured her, picking up his paper again, for he had not yet finished reading.

"Yes, it might be just that," Elizabeth lied again, but this time her uncle did not pick up on it, since he quickly was too engrossed in the news.



They were gone. 

Jane and Mrs Younge had left for Hertfordshire and she was to stay in London until Christmas. She would miss her sister dearly, though a small part of her was more than glad to stay here. One reason, if she was honest with herself, was the hope of seeing Mr Darcy again, though she did not think it very likely. But if he did not call, she would know exactly what to think and not dwell on things that had never been in the first place. He had been ill and grateful for her family's care, and that might have been all there was to it. But the few times he had smiled it had lit up his face so handsomely, it had almost taken her breath away. The cheer had suited him and he had looked so much younger and there had been wit and kindness showing through the normally so rough and gloomy exterior, and if she could, if it only was in her power, she would have loved to make him the happiest man on earth, only to see him always smile like that.

In the midst of her contemplations there was a ring at the door and a moment later the maid brought in a note for her. With some surprise, Elizabeth took it.

The handwriting was unfamiliar but decidedly masculine and suddenly her heart began to beat much faster. Could it be after all? Breaking the seal, she unfolded the missive and her hand flew to her mouth as she read the invitation.

Dear Miss Elizabeth,  
though I am aware that it is not quite appropriate for a man to write to a single lady, however, as I was not introduced to your aunt and uncle nor you to my sister, to you I must send this note. My sister and I would be honoured, if you, your sister, and your aunt and uncle, would join us for dinner tomorrow evening, if convenient to you, of course. If you have other engagements, perhaps we could arrange for another evening? Either way, I would be greatly honoured to have you as my guests. Should you accept, I shall send around my carriage at five o'clock.  
Yours etc.  
F. Darcy

Quickly Elizabeth went in search of her aunt and soon found her in the nursery where she was teaching her children a new game, much to her young cousins' delight.

"What is it, Lizzy?" Aunt Gardiner asked, her face flushed with the laughter she had shared with her brood.

"I have just received an invitation to dinner from Mr Darcy and his sister for tomorrow. For all of us. I wanted to inquire whether you have any engagements or other objections, or whether we might accept."

"Would you like to go?"

"I would very much like to meet Miss Darcy, for I have heard so much about her," she answered, though that was not her main reason it was perfectly true.

"Then I suggest you go. Yet, I am afraid your uncle and I indeed have an engagement on the morrow. - But since his sister is there as well, I see no reason why you should not go on your own," her aunt replied smiling. "We could send back the carriage to bring you there and pick you up again."

"That will not be necessary, Mr Darcy said he would send his, to pick us up."

"Now that is very courteous, I am sure."

By the expression of her aunt, Elizabeth thought her rather a bit offended. From her own experience, she was well aware that Mr Darcy could come across as a bit callous and arrogant when in truth all he wanted was, to be as attentive as possible. Oh, how could one not love a man like this?

"Aunt, I think you have misunderstood him entirely, or rather his intentions."

"So?" Mrs Gardiner's face changed from slight indignation to great curiosity.

"Yes. As you know we have cared for him for a week when he was in Hertfordshire, and I think his intentions are to make it as easy for us as possible to follow his invitation. After all, he could hardly have known that my uncle keeps a carriage of his own."

"Now, that is true, Lizzy. Perhaps I was a bit prejudiced, for I know the family after all, if not the man himself, and am well aware of how consequential they are."

"You do?" Elizabeth was astonished.

"Yes, I grew up in Lambton in Derbyshire. I am sure I have mentioned it before."

"You did,"

"And the Darcy's estate is not five miles from Lambton, Pemberley it is called. A lovely house and the most delightful grounds I have ever seen, Lizzy. Such people are bound to think lowly of our class. I have dealt with the likes of Mr Darcy too often to not distrust their kindness and most of the time I was proven right. Unfortunately. - However, if you say that this does not apply to Mr Darcy, then I will take your word for it," Mrs Gardiner smiled and turned towards her children again, as her youngest was persistently tucking at her sleeve.

Elizabeth blushed, for she had the distinct feeling that she had given too much of her feelings away and yet unsure herself what exactly they were.


	17. Chapter 16

Thus the invitation had been accepted and early the next afternoon, Elizabeth began to ready herself for dinner, wanting neither to appear too negligent in her appearance nor too extravagant. - Not that she would be in much danger of the latter, for all her dresses were rather plain compared to those she had seen on Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. And still, as much as she was looking forward to the evening, and as much as she was sure of Mr Darcy's regard for her, she dared not hope that there might be even more. Consulting her own heart, she had to admit, that even though the beginning of their acquaintance had been a rather unlucky one, that by now she thought, beyond a doubt, that Mr Darcy was a very amiable man. A man well worth pleasing. This thought did little to distract her nervousness and the fluttering of her heart increased with every passing minute, till at last, she was ready, at least in the sense that she was fully dressed in her finest gown and her hair done up nicely. 

How she was to pass the half-hour until Mr Darcy's carriage would pick her up, she knew not, but in the bustle of the Gardiner's own leaving, time passed surprisingly quickly and it was not five minutes after her aunt and uncle had departed, that a courteous knock sounded from the entrance door. The footman opened and to Elizabeth's utter amazement, it was not the groom or another footman she found standing there in the light drizzle that had set in sometime during the afternoon, but Mr Darcy himself. He looked much healthier than she had imagined he would after his infection, his face was pale and ashen no longer, his mien had relaxed and he looked more handsome than ever with the slight somewhat shy smile he sported.

"Miss Bennet," he bowed, his smile deepening, "I trust you are ready to leave?"

"I am, Mr Darcy," was all she managed to stutter at the sight of the tiny dimple which had appeared on his cheek and which made him look almost incredibly young but also sweet in a way that she had never as jet associated with this man, "I just need to put on my pelisse and gloves."

Elizabeth had the distinct feel of sounding incredibly foolish and was glad she could actually do something actively and be it only to put on her outer-wear so she would be protected from the weather. But her heart would not stop beating wildly in her chest and so, with a shaking hand, she got hold of his proffered arm and was gently helped into the coach.

For the most part, the ride to Darcy's townhouse passed in silence, until at last it was him who spoke: "I am very glad you could accept our invitation, Miss Bennet. My sister is very eager to meet you."

"And I am very eager to meet her, I have to admit."

Many a thing went through her head, and seemingly through his also, for, for a couple of minutes, silence once again enveloped them. From the slight tenseness that went with it, it was clear that both their minds strayed in the same direction, namely the very reason how their present situation had come to pass. - The ruin of Miss Georgiana Darcy. It would be a difficult task to neither be too understanding nor avoiding the subject too much. But did Miss Darcy even know that she knew about her situation?

As if reading her mind, Mr Darcy woke from his reverie and began speaking again. 

"I have not spoken to my sister about how much you know – not yet. Admittedly I have not had the heart to broach the subject, for she still is very much ashamed of what has come to pass, as you can imagine."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, glad that with this revelation she now knew that avoiding the topic altogether was the way to go and she need not tread carefully around something as unsuitable a subject as this most horrid incident.

For a moment she wondered whether it would be too forward to inquire whether there was a solution in sight or not, when, once again, Darcy anticipated her question: "My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, will be there as well. He, too, is guardian to my sister and with that fully understands her situation. He has only returned from across the Atlantic a couple of days ago, you must know and it might console you somewhat, that he and his wife will take care of the child once it is born."

"I am very glad to hear it, Mr Darcy, for I have to admit that I was concerned about..." 

Well, yes, what was she concerned about? It was not as if she had any connection with the family. But to know that there was so much worry and desolation that had befallen one of her acquaintances had, nonetheless, been disconcerting. 

"You are an exceptional woman, Miss Bennet."

The warmth with which Mr Darcy spoke those words almost took her breath away and once again her heart sped up until she was almost sure it would break from sheer exhaustion. Consequently, it was absolutely necessary to change the subject and move over to some safer ground. Recalling the other effect which her outburst towards her mother had brought about she began speaking about her hopes of her sister's new governess being most beneficial. 

"There can be little doubt, Miss Bennet. Have you met the lady?"

"I have," Elizabeth replied with a small frown.

"And, what is your impression?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow as if sensing her scepticism.

"Well, she has got good references, but truth be told, I think Mrs Younge, that is the lady's name, is a bit too young and complying. She seems pleasant enough..."

With a start Darcy had sat up straight, his face a mask of anger and despair his hands clenched into fists, so much so, that even in the dim light inside the carriage she could see his knuckles turn white.

"Have I said something wrong?" 

"No, not at all," Darcy muttered through his teeth, though his expression told a different story and the rest of the way, which at this point was but short, was once again passed in silence, though the comfort that before had been there alongside the slight embarrassment, was gone and instead replaced by an almost palpable tension on the gentleman's side. 

"Miss Bennet," Mr Darcy finally addressed her, as he helped her out of the carriage, "I have to apologise. My behaviour just now was unpardonable, but once I explain my reaction, you will, I hope, understand and forgive me."

"I presume you know Mrs Younge?" Elizabeth ventured to ask and was rewarded with a curt nod and yet another frown.

"There is no use in addressing this topic tonight, but I will call on you and your uncle early tomorrow morning and then we will see how to act. But to answer your question, yes, I do know her, and I must ask you, not to mention her name. Please!"

"Act?" she grew ever so much more alarmed and hardly took in any of her surroundings, but at last, as if in a daze, gave her word to not mention their new governess' name.

“Yes. It was her who was entrusted with my sister's care.”

Her pelisse and bonnet she handed to the butler without really realising it and still deeply shocked and in thought stepped into the elegantly furnished sitting room, needing all her attention to greet the two people within there properly.


	18. Chapter 17

Georgiana Darcy was much as she had expected, an elegant girl, quite tall for her age and well-formed. Her hair was lighter than her brother's and in the glow of the fire golden beams lit up in it almost like a halo, surrounding her delicate features with her dark blue eyes and sensitive mouth. She looked shy and a bit timid upon being introduced to her, but it was not in a sense that made Elizabeth worry to have made an unfavourable impression, more in a manner of general wariness when in the company of strangers. Comparing the cautious young woman, roughly the same age than her youngest sister, Elizabeth could not help wishing that while Lydia could do with some of Miss Darcy's reticence, the other could do with a small dose of boisterousness that so marked Lydia.

"I am so pleased to meet you at last, after having heard so much about you from your brother," she smiled after both of them had curtsied politely to each other.

"Oh?" was all Georgiana Darcy replied, blushing slightly, but not daring to venture a reply.

"I am mightily glad to meet you, Miss Bennet," the strange man spoke up, not waiting to be introduced likewise, obviously sensing the discomfort her words had inadvertently caused.

"Sir?"

"Oh, pardon my manners, I am so used to a much rougher environment than my cousin's house. Darcy, come, man, introduce us, will you? It is a bit tedious to not be able to properly speak to one-quarter of such small a party as ours only because the formalities have been neglected."

Mr Darcy chuckled, shaking his head slightly before doing his duty, adding with a small side glance at his sister: "Well, I would have done so before, Richard, had you only given me the chance to do so. But as we now are all introduced to one another, we can now talk to one another without restraint."

"At least to some degree we can, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth quipped and once more felt immensely stupid at her choice of words.

But somehow there seemed an embargo on every subject that came to mind, for all of her acquaintance with Mr Darcy was somehow connected to his sister's situation, whether it was their first meeting, which had been overshadowed by his grumpy behaviour due to the pain in his leg, which had ultimately ended in his leaving her in the middle of a dance, or his subsequent illness. Even her being in London was somehow connected to him and consequently to his sister. And then there now was the news that Mrs Younge, her sisters' new governess, was the very lady who had done nothing to prevent her charge from making such a grave mistake as to trust such a man who would abuse an innocent young lady in order to make her elope with him. At last, casting a glance through the comfortable room they were in, her eyes fell on the piano-forte in front of the now drawn window.

"Do you play, Miss Darcy?" she quickly carried on, before the silence, which for a moment had enveloped them, became too heavy.

"Yes, I do, Miss Bennet. Do you?"

"Oh, only a very little, I am afraid. My sister Mary plays much better than I, but then again, I never seem to be even half as persistent in practising as she is. You must know my middle sister is very studious and most determined to master even the most difficult of pieces, while I am quite happy to make do with the simple ones."

"How many sisters do you have?" Miss Darcy asked with some curiosity, her demeanour losing some of its shyness, and bidding her sit down next to her, Elizabeth was glad to take a seat on the sofa and also gladly accepted the glass of sherry she was handed by her host.

"I am the second eldest of five."

"Five sisters? - Oh, that must be wonderful! I would have liked to have a sister."

"And what about me?" an indignant Mr Darcy inquired, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his offended mien to be a mock one.

"Oh, brother, that was not what I meant! You sure must know that. I would not want to miss you for the world. - You must know, Miss Bennet, mine is the best brother one could ever wish for. Do you have any brothers, also?"

"No, I am afraid I have not. I wish I had, but I presume one always longs for what one cannot get."

Seeing Miss Darcy cast down her eyes once again, in seeming shame, Elizabeth once more bit her tongue. - There, she had done it yet again, and just when she had thought she trod on safer ground. Again it was Colonel Fitzwilliam who saved the situation by remarking that he had it on safe authority from one of his mother-in-law's tenants, that when it rains the sun is supposed to shine and vice versa and that at any rate, the crops of one's neighbour always grew so much better than one's own.

"That is certainly very true," remarked his cousin dryly. "I swear Mr Waverly's pigs are always so much better fed than my own."

"That, Darcy, is because he feeds them with the mash from his distillery."

"Yes, that might certainly be the cause, but it does not change the fact that his pigs are fatter than mine."

"Brother, how can you speak about pigs?"

"Well, perhaps it is not quite a suitable subject, I admit to it. But it served to prove a point, did it not?"

"It certainly did, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth smiled. "I have to admit I had not thought you take such a keen interest in breeding livestock."

"But I do. After all, and Miss Bingley might be shocked to hear this, but certainly not you, I might live in a great house, but when you strip away all the grandeur, all that is left is a farmer. So, I do have a very keen interest in livestock, as well as in growing crops, for both is essential to keep my estate running and with it, a sheer endless number of people employed and fed."

"Like that poor sod who came by the other day?" the Colonel inquired.

"Yes, just like Mr Norris."

"Who is Mr Norris?" Miss Darcy asked curiously, seemingly unfamiliar with the name.

Darcy looked somewhat embarrassed as he answered: "A man I have met a couple of days ago and whom I have offered the position as an under-gardener. Seems a good man, that."

"You always have such a great perception of people, brother. Unlike myself," his sister sighed, casting a rueful glance at Elizabeth. "I never seem able to make people out."

"You are still very young, Miss Darcy. I, too, have still so much to learn. Can you imagine that at first meeting your brother, I thought him a most unpleasant sort of man?"

The man in question's sister seemed almost shocked by that confession, but grinning cheekily Elizabeth added: "Yes, indeed. I have since changed my opinion of him, but you know how deceiving first impressions can be. Shyness might be interpreted as aloofness, cheerfulness for undue familiarity and so forth. It is always a crux meeting people for the first time.”

"And what have you thought of me upon first entering the room?"

"Oh, I cannot really say, for I felt as if I knew you already. Ours was not a real first meeting, where one can apply these rules, and all your brother has told me, I as yet have found to be perfectly true and I am delighted at your acquaintance."

"Miss Bennet, if only I would be deserving of the praise Fitzwilliam seems to have sung... - But I fear I am not."

"And I am sure you are."

"No. No, I am not!" jumping up from her seat Georgiana Darcy rushed out of the room, almost running into the footman who had been about to call them for dinner.

"I will go after her, Darcy, you stay with your guest."

"I am so sorry," was all Elizabeth could stammer.

"Please, do not worry about having said something wrong. I can assure you, you have not. But I fear that my sister is still self-chastising herself to a degree I myself seem to have underestimated, for she appeared so much better the last couple of days. Then again, I think she was desperate to make a good impression on you and yet..."

"And yet carries such a horrible secret."

"Yes."

The footman still stood in the doorway looking slightly forlorn.

Offering his arm, Mr Darcy, escorted her into the dining room, though the food held little appeal to Elizabeth at the moment, her compassion for the upset young woman had driven away her appetite for the fine food displayed most elegantly almost entirely.


	19. Chapter 18

It was more out of politeness, that Elizabeth took any food at all, and at first the tension between her and her host, was almost palpable. Not that Mr Darcy was not all friendliness, but from his expression, it was very obvious, that his thoughts were frequently straying towards his sister and it was not much different with Elizabeth either. The young girl's reaction had shaken her to the core and she felt quite responsible for the upset, though at the same time she knew it was rather an irrational thought. - Just as irrational as Miss Darcy thinking it was her fault she now was in this kind of situation, left with child and unmarried. Well, at least the child was taken care of, and in good time Georgiana Darcy might regain her spirits as well and might find a man worthy of her affection – a man like her brother, warm, caring and reliable...

At last, she said, putting down her knife and fork: "Mr Darcy, please, do not feel obliged to sit here with me, when I can clearly see that you would rather be upstairs to comfort your sister."

He looked up from his plate on which he had all but pushed around the food which he had dished up for himself, clearly stunned at her remark. For about a quarter of an hour now, both had tried to appear as cheerful as they could and had continually made an effort at conversation, and yet, despite her being a very good and witty conversationalist under normal circumstances and his own intelligence and quickness, their talk had been rather stilted, while what was foremost on their minds had been left unsaid.

"If you would come with me?" he, at last, spoke with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, dabbing his mouth with his napkin.

His eyes were almost pleading as if her presence would mean a lot to him in this instance, and still, Elizabeth had her doubts about it being wise.

"If I were sure it would comfort your sister, I would, but I fear my coming along might be the more upsetting than my presence here this evening has already been anyway."

"And perhaps it might be the reverse, Miss Bennet," he smiled, getting up from his chair to hold out his hand to her. "After all, you have four sisters and I presume they often are far from easy to deal with. And yet, as far as I have seen, you have dealt with them admirably."

It was an intimate gesture, but a most heartfelt one and without hesitation, she took his outstretched hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world and let him pull her out of her seat. They ascended the wide staircase in silence, still walking hand in hand, as both seemed to have forgotten to let go of the other, and had just reached the top of the stairs when Colonel Fitzwilliam was about to enter the landing to join them again.

When he saw the two of them he smiled knowingly but did not remark on their presence and only said, with a small frown flickering across his plain features: "She has calmed down but is too ashamed to come down again, I fear. I was just about to fetch you, Darcy, hoping you could persuade her to it."

"Than it seems we have saved you the trouble," his cousin replied, subconsciously pulling Elizabeth even closer to his side. "This is not much like the dinner I had intended it to be, but the food is still on the table, kept warm, so while we try and persuade Georgiana to come down, please do not wait for us. All ceremony at this point would seem rather silly, I presume."

"Ah, never mind me. It is not as if I do not know my way around, is it?"

"No. Miss Bennet, I am truly sorry for this disastrous evening."

"Mr Darcy, please do not concern yourself with me. It is not that I was not well aware of what had happened and that your sister is still far from well."

"But it seems I must rely on your help and understanding all of the time and what can I give you in return?"

'Your heart' Elizabeth thought and blushed slightly.

Recovering she instead answered: "Well, if you help me with my sisters' governess, what else could I ask for?"

They knocked on the girl's door and were asked in in a calm tone of voice. Georgiana Darcy sat in the wide and comfortable window-seat of her bedroom, leaning against the cold pane, staring into the darkness outside. Surprise flashed across her face when on turning around at last her eyes fell on her brother's companion and quickly she cast her eyes down once more.

"Please, Miss Darcy, do not feel uncomfortable. I am very sorry to have caused you upset. It was not my intention," Elizabeth spoke quickly, taking a step towards the young lady, who in her current state of desolation looked more like a child than the woman she soon would become.

"It was not you, who caused it," Georgiana whispered, turning her head to again stare out into the night.

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth Bennet braced herself for what she was about to say, fearing both the reaction of the sister and the brother, but she felt that not admitting that she knew all about Miss Darcy's situation was worse than speaking plainly. To her, it was very clear that the girl thought her oblivious to her situation, well, not that Mr Darcy had not told her as much himself, and that if she should ever find out she would think the worse of her. She could not have that. She needed to make it clear that she knew, and that she did not judge her over the sole mistake of trusting a man she had known since childhood and of whom she had never had any reason to think badly before.

"Miss Darcy, there is one thing you must understand, and which, perhaps, will come to you as a shock, but I am informed about your circumstances. You must know that when I found your brother he had just read the letter that was sent to him by Doctor Hamilton, and he asked me to retrieve it. It lay unfolded and I have to admit that I read it, hoping to find some information about what had made Mr Darcy so ill."

Her words hung heavy in the air, but squeezing her hand Mr Darcy showed her his approval of her actions anyway. It was a comforting feeling to know that she had not lost his regard and that he was not angry with her about bringing up the subject.

With wide eyes Georgiana looked at her, tears streaming down her face till at last she jumped up from her perch and flung her arms around Elizabeth like a person drowning, sobbing into her shoulder like an upset child.

"Oh, Miss Bennet, how can you be so kind to such a sinner as I?"

"You were taken advantage of, Miss Darcy, how could I condemn you for another's crime?"

Elizabeth smiled, rubbing the young lady's back in the same soothing manner she normally used when one of her sisters was upset and in need of comfort. It worked. Eventually, Georgiana's breathing became more even and when she looked up her tears had dried and she even managed a small smile.

"You are a remarkable young lady, Miss Bennet, and I would be so very happy to call you my sister. I am no longer surprised my brother loves you so dearly."

At seeing the embarrassed faces of both her brother and the woman she clung to, once more she began sobbing: "Oh, I make a mess of everything it seems."


	20. Chapter 19

Fitzwilliam Darcy could literally feel his face flush in embarrassment and had the ground opened underneath him, he would have been more than happy to disappear into the depth of it, never to re-surface again. But as it was, the ground did not open, and all he could do at present was to cast his eyes down to avoid any searching glance at Elizabeth – and more importantly from her. It was then, that he realised, that he still held firmly onto her hand – her ungloved hand even as she had removed them for their meal. The right thing to do, would surely be, to let go of her, but yet, a small voice at the back of his mind chimed up, telling him that perhaps, now that the cards all lay open, he might just as well take the plunge and admit to the fact, that all Georgiana had said about his love for the lively young woman, was actually perfectly true.

Looking up quickly, he could see, that Elizabeth Bennet was not any less flustered than him. She, too, sported a bright red colour upon her cheeks, and her eyes were also cast to the ground, while Georgiana only stood there, rooted to the spot in mortification.

"Miss Bennet?" he, at last, managed to find his voice again, though it seemed to sound rather odd as if it did not belong to him at all, "now that my sister has been so presumptions, I feel I must speak. I can stay silent no longer. Miss Bennet, please let me tell you..."

But what he had wanted to say, drowned in a commotion from the direction of the front door. They could hear hurried voices, and a moment later Colonel Fitzwilliam shouted up the stairs, while at the same time running up it, taking two steps at a time.

"It is him, Darcy," the Colonel panted his expression equally shocked as it was angry, "He is here, at the door, demanding to see you."

All the colour which had before heated his face now drained from it. The words of love and affection which he had been about to utter, now stuck in his throat almost choking him, reminding him, that at present, he was in no state to offer Miss Bennet anything but possible scandal or alternatively a life full of fear and doubt. From belowstairs he could hear some heated voices, one clearly belonging to his butler, and then what appeared to be a struggle. Before he had regained his wits or at least some of his sense, none other than George Wickham entered the chamber, a sly grin on his face and his eyes sparkling with malice.

"Ah, I see I have come upon a family meeting, of sorts. And who is this charming young woman?" he turned towards Elizabeth, bowing gallantly.

"That is none of your business, Wickham!"

It was Georgiana of all people in the room, who reacted first, her face was white with anger and stepping towards the handsome man, dressed in the lieutenant's uniform of a militia regiment. Before any of the rest knew what she was on about, had slapped him hard in the face. His false smile faltered for a moment, and at first, it seemed as if he was about to strike back, but then he only began to laugh. A very spiteful and ominous laugh.

"How dare you come here! What is it you want, Wickham?" Darcy, at last, asked, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you know, as you can see, I have found myself a new occupation, but I need a bit of an initial aid. You know with purchasing the commission and the uniform and all."

"What happened to the money I gave you last week?"

He could literally feel three pairs of eyes bore into him now. Wickham on the other hand just shrugged his shoulders in mock joviality.

"It is also kind of urgent, otherwise I would have sent you a letter, of course. You know I am a considerate fellow in that respect," he replied eventually in an exaggerated suave manner.  
Darcy could not help but laugh drily at those words.

"So, since I have to report by noon on the morrow, I had no choice but to come here tonight. And besides, it is always nice to see such good friends, is it not?"

"You fiend!" Georgiana spat, seemingly ready to lunge at him again. "You terrible, terrible fiend!"

"Hush, my love, or do you want the whole world to know our little secret?" 

Here the young officer looked pointedly at Elizabeth, whose eyes were glaring at the intruder.

Through the open door, Darcy could make out a good handful of his footmen, as well as the butler, who rubbed his shoulder as if he had been injured, all awaiting his orders. Oh, how he would love to throw out this bastard! But whether it was a wise thing to do or not, was another matter. He nodded in their direction and a moment later the door was closed, though he was pretty certain, that they lingered behind, should they be needed. He would have to pay them extra, lest word of this affair might come out, so much was apparent. Not that he could not trust his staff in general, but this, for sure, was too delicious a topic to gossip about to rely on their discretion alone.

"How much is it you want this time?" Darcy inquired, managing to sound almost bored.

"Oh, I think another five-hundred should suffice. For the moment at least."

Both Georgiana and Elizabeth gasped as they finally realised what was going on and seemingly had been going on for a while, and Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed all but ready to draw his sabre. But Darcy only shook his head, in his direction. It was not that he felt sorry for the pathetic wretch before him, rather that it would be very hard to explain the circumstances of his death to a magistrate. - And Wickham had known as much! Any rash decision and the scandal he had tried to avoid for months now would be unavoidable. So he only beckoned Wickham to follow him downstairs and into his study to give him the money and nothing more. Money that these days he always kept in his safe.

"Here. And now go! And, Wickham, should you ever turn up on my doorstep again, I will not hold Fitzwilliam back again. Is that understood?"

"I was not aware he now lives here to protect you, Darcy," was the nonchalant answer he received, before, with a swagger and an ugly smirk, George Wickham left the house, and chaos in his wake.


	21. Chapter 20

With shaking hands Darcy poured himself a glass of brandy and slumped down behind his desk. As soon as Wickham had left, a sense of shame had overcome him and emotionally exhausted he let his head sink into his hands. This had been supposed to be a comfortable, enjoyable evening and somehow it had turned into a complete disaster. How was he ever to make amends with Miss Elizabeth under circumstances such as these? Had she been any lesser woman, like Miss Bingley for example, she would have made a scene a long while ago, but alas, she was not and he was grateful for it. The thought of his guest made him sit up straight again and downing his glass he quickly got up from his chair and stepped out into the hall, half expecting to see her there about to leave. However, she was nowhere to be seen. But his cousin was very decidedly so, as he stood there, leaning against the bannister of the stairs obviously waiting for him to appear from his study.  
The Colonel's face was clouded over, almost thunderous, and he knew what would follow - a right scolding. And if he was honest with himself, quite rightly so. How could he have let it come this far anyway? Then again, looking at things in hindsight was always at a clearer perspective than when one was in the middle of it and even now, some things were frighteningly cloudy.

"So, you let him blackmail you!"

It was not a question, but a statement so Darcy did not bother to reply.

"That, my friend, is idiotic!" the Colonel carried on, his words hanging heavy in the air.

"Yes, I know," was his pathetically crestfallen reply, accompanied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Then why do you let him?" Colonel Fitzwilliam now thundered and as if a soldier himself, subconsciously Darcy straightened his back and stood salute, but only to hang his head in shame once again almost immediately.

"What else was I supposed to do without ruining my sister? And with her all the rest of my family, including your..." he had wanted to say 'your children', but swallowed the words, for, given what his cousin had told him two days prior, they somehow felt wrong. Instead, he finished flatly: "... your brother's children."

"Oh come now, do you really believe anyone would pay him much heed?" Fitzwilliam still scolded on. "Consider what you have in hand against him, Darcy! Two can play that game. And even should he drop word about Georgiana's situation, once his true character is revealed, who would be there to still believe him? And what does he mean with he 'purchased his commission'? He has no land of his own and no fortune. Odd!"

He stared at the Colonel aghast. No, it had not occurred to him, that while Wickham had power over him and Georgiana, so had he over, Wickham. But of course! What he needed was someone who would find out as many despicable things about the man, as was possible, starting with those people Wickham was indebted to. And now, that the Colonel had brought it up, yes, it was odd that he would say that he purchased his commission. Commissions in the militia were drawn, not purchased and in order to be an officer there, with no pay, mind, this meant that on top of that, he would need to have an income of his own. Well, perhaps it was worth to find out. There was only one minor problem, however... - How to go about things discreetly? It would not exactly help their cause if Wickham got wind of what they were on about. But he, at last, had a starting point, or even two, on how to get his family out of this dilemma, and hopefully even unscathed.

But first he had to deal with Mrs Younge, he had promised it to Elizabeth and he would keep his word, he would not put it past the devious woman to turn on her young and boisterous charges come the chance - and while on his way to Hertfordshire, he would have all the time required to think over what Fitzwilliam had just said and what to do exactly and how. At this point, this turn in the road, it would not do to act without thinking, and the one place where he had always been able to think things over best, given he was on his own, had been his carriage.

Stating his plans for the following day to his cousin, the man nodded thoughtfully, clapped him on the shoulder and with a smile said: "That is the Darcy I know and not this pathetic little coward from earlier tonight. What is Miss Bennet supposed to think?"

Elizabeth! - Oh dear, engrossed in his thoughts, he had almost forgotten she was still in the house, or rather he had not forgotten that she was there, but that she surely must desire to return to Gracechurch Street. His heart sank upon thinking what an impression he must have made on her. And there he had once thought her family to be prone to thoughtless ridiculousness deserving of censure.

With an open smile, Colonel Fitzwilliam carried on, almost cheerfully: "So, I think I will make my way back home as well. It is getting late and while you are off to Hertfordshire, I will go down to Kent and speak to Anne. It is a matter of course, that sooner or later we will have to bring Georgiana to a safe place where she can have the baby, but I would not act too rashly, for that will have the people speculate as well. Considering Anne's health, I think it is safe to say, that no-one will be much surprised if we retreat for a couple of months. Especially not if word gets around that she is expecting, and with that, what would be more natural for my wife than to take her cousin with her as a companion? It is really quite lucky that we have been abroad, is it not? For otherwise people might be surprised at the news. It has always astonished me, how quickly word gets around on a person's state of health. You are lucky that Dr Hamilton is such a reliable fellow, for though I went about town with my mother, not a single soul approached us about Georgiana."

Shaking his head in almost disbelief Darcy muttered: "How come you have planned all this within such a short amount of time, while I have not made any headway in months and instead dug myself in deeper by the day?"

"I was not in the midst of it, cousin. I think I may safely boast, that I was the new perspective you desperately needed. And you know what else you need, Darcy?"

Again he shook his head.

"A wife. And I think I know just the right one for you..."


	22. Chapter 21

For several long minutes, silence enveloped them as soon as the men had left the room and two thoroughly disturbed women behind. But other than Elizabeth had expected, Georgiana did not dissolve into tears, she was angry rather than sad, and pacing up and down in front of the fireplace she, at last, addressed her guest with an apologetic gesture.

"Believe me, Miss Bennet, when I assure you that before this man had come back into our lives, Fitzwilliam and I were perfectly happy, and respectable."

"You still are, at least respectable. And as for being happy, I am sure there will be one day when happiness will return as well. You are both such good people, and whoever this fellow was, he is most certainly an unpleasant sort of man."

"Oh, but you should see him when he is all charming and smooth, Miss Bennet! He seems to know exactly what one wants to hear, exactly how to draw compassion from the people around him, and before one knows it, he has, in the manner of speaking, of course, stabbed you in the back. I was stupid of me to trust him, but so many things seemed to have gone wrong. I just did not know he was dangerous, for when last I had seen him, before last summer I mean, he was an amiable young man, the son of my father's steward, devoting much of his time to entertain me, much like my brother did. But I was but eight or nine then, if not younger. Then after father's death, he disappeared from our lives, and as he had been at Cambridge for a while then, I have to say, I did not wonder about it and eventually, he turned into a pleasant memory and nothing more."

The young woman sighed and sat down before she continued: "Last winter I had suffered a severe cold and the subsequent cough just did not want to go away. Mrs Younge, who was my companion at the time, suggested for us to go to the seaside. We went to Ramsgate, and I have to say she was right, the fresh salty air did me a world of good and I recovered my health quickly, though we were to stay until the end of summer. One day, we walked along the promenade, when we ran into Wickham, most certainly by design on his part. He was all smiles and since Mrs Younge, having grown up in Lambton knew him to be a friend of the family, and I remembered him with equal fondness as such, neither of us thought any of it when he began visiting."

"Well, the neither of you had cause to doubt his intentions," Elizabeth assured her, listening eagerly to the whole of the story at last, where before she had only ever heard parts of it – and the worst at that.

"No, we could not. I was rather taken aback, when one day Mrs Younge told me to be more cautious, but naive as I was, I threw all her cautions to the wind and eventually she, too, dropped her wariness and from then on, George Wickham was in our house even more often than he had been before. As he was almost a brother to me, often we were left alone, and then suddenly he proposed to me."

There she stopped, and her eyes shone brightly with tears once again. Getting up from her own seat, Elizabeth walked over to the girl to put a comforting arm around her slender shoulders.

"I really thought I was in love with him, for what did I know about love except from books, and not very good ones at that? I agreed and told him I would write to my brother immediately. Wickham had none of it, and it should have made me wary, but alas, it did not. With my head full of romantic tales, I was felt elated to keep such a wonderful secret and surprise my whole family. And what a surprise it would have been. - Well, what a surprise it is!"

Elizabeth could not help thinking about her own younger sisters and smile wryly.

"Then he began to speak of elopement. Of going to Gretna Green. Despite my imagined infatuation, I was taken aback, for though I thought myself madly in love with him, I had repeatedly made it clear that I would never marry without my brother's consent and without him giving me away. You should have seen his face, Miss Bennet. His visage turned as ugly as a ghoul and for the first time, I realised that he was not the man I thought him to be. He grabbed me, one hand on my mouth to stop me from screaming and whispered into my ear that once he was finished with me, I would have no other chance than to run off to Scotland with him."

Elizabeth pulled her even closer, soothingly rubbing her back now and Georgiana Darcy visibly relaxed again, where before her body had been as tense as a bow ready to shoot an arrow.

"After that, I feared him, but he was right when he told me that what he had done to me would ruin me forever and that he might have gotten me with child. In the end I agreed. I was made to write a letter, and both Wickham, as well as Mrs Younge, read it over before it was sent."

"Did Mrs Younge do nothing to help and protect you?"

"Oh, she did try to reason with him, but what was she supposed to say or do? She comforted me as best as she could."

Elizabeth was incredulous. What kind of companion was her sisters' new governess? Why did she not inform Mr Darcy at once? Would that not have been the most obvious step to take?

"I was very surprised when Fitzwilliam suddenly turned up at the inn where we rested while our horses were changed. He was white with anger and still Wickham could not refrain from taunting him, pulling me onto his lap, kissing me while he merrily gambled on. I am quite sure he wanted to give my brother every reason to attack him and attack Fitzwilliam did. When travelling he always carries a gun in his boot, as well as a knife, and it was the former which he drew, lunging at his old childhood friend, and the favourite of my late father. I did not know Wickham was armed likewise, and when he drew his pistol, I think I screamed at the top of my lungs, but I cannot really say. All I remember was the crack of the gunshot, my brother falling to the ground and the blood. I ran to my brother's side, clung to him, knowing that if I let go, I was lost. In the ensuing chaos, Wickham disappeared and my brother was brought to a quack. Everything else was lost in a blur and I am still astonished to think that suddenly I woke up in my own room here in London."

"It must have felt like a very bad dream," Elizabeth mused, pushing a stray curl away from the girl's eyes.

"It did. Just that the more I awoke from it the worse it got."

"Up to the climax when you had the confirmation, that you carried this vile man's child."

"Yes. Oh, Miss Bennet, I have never spoken so openly about this for fear of censure, but you I can trust, I can feel it from the bottom of my heart and I thank you for it. I did not mean to embarrass you earlier this evening, but it is true. I have never seen my brother like this, so decidedly flustered and yet keen to be around you. He is a very shy person, I have to say as much, but for him to trust you so, believe me, is the greatest compliment he could possibly pay you," Georgiana smiled softly before adding: "It is also true that you are the sister I always wished for."

This simple, but obviously heartfelt statement was followed by a contemplative silence. How much time had passed, they did not know, but suddenly they became aware of another person in the room and looking up, there, rooted to the spot, stood Mr Darcy, in the doorway. How long he had stood there, neither of the women knew, but that he had heard at least part of their conversation was evident by his heightened complexion and his searching glance. Almost as of their own accord, their eyes locked and with a few swift steps, Mr Darcy had crossed the distance and held out his hand once again and once more as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Elizabeth took it.


	23. Chapter 22

It was their grumbling stomachs which brought them back to the here and then and with a sheepish smile Darcy stated, as matter of factly as the situation allowed him to: "I have invited you for dinner, Miss Bennet, but I fear I have, up until now, been a very negligent host in that respect. I suppose the table has been cleared long since, but knowing Cook, she will have kept the one or other of the dishes warm and if you are not concerned about the lateness of the hour, I would suggest, we finally sit down and eat something, for I can hardly have you go home hungry."

Laughing Elizabeth Bennet rose from her perch, that was the armrest of the chair Georgiana was sitting in and lent a hand to her new friend. The evening had been an emotionally very challenging one, and still, had she had the choice and even had she known what was to happen, she would still always decide to come here and even now, she was by no means keen to go home. And so, for the second time that night, they entered the dining-parlour and though the selection of food was indeed considerably smaller than it had been earlier on, their appetites were proportionally larger. The embargo on various subjects, which had previously hampered their conversation, had been lifted and consequently, their discussion now was almost shockingly informal. Not that any of them cared. Ioo much had been said already to feel much embarrassment at this point and so the interlocution, though touching several not so pleasant topics, was a lively and unrestrained one.

By the time Elizabeth was on her way home, it was scandalously late, but her heart was astonishingly light. Opposite her, Mr Darcy sat, once more accompanying her, and though it was too dark to discern his expression, she was almost certain that he smiled.

They had gone for almost a quarter of an hour in complete, but contented silence, when she heard some rustle from his side of the carriage and leaning forward, suddenly, in the dim light of the night, she could make out his features. He looked anxious, almost agonised, but in a different way than she had ever seen him.

"Miss Bennet," he spoke softly his voice faltering ever so slightly, "I can sit in silence no longer. Please, you must allow me to tell you, how ardently I admire and love you. Until Georgiana's innocent and presumptuous remark, I myself was not aware of how deep my feelings ran, but it is true. I love you, irrevocably and deeply. Have done so since almost the first time I have met you, though I behaved so unforgivably rude then. But your kindness, your liveliness, your wit, your care for each and everyone around, not judging, not belittling, has drawn me towards you like I was drawn to no other woman, nor ever will. You are indeed different to any lady I have ever known. I, therefore, ask you, Miss Elizabeth, to consent to a courtship, for I am well aware that we know each other less than a month and that my current situation must appear to great disadvantage, but, perhaps, if you could find it in you to..."

His words were silenced by Elizabeth's index of her now gloved hand, as she softly placed it on his lips.

"Not could, Mr Darcy, already have. I love you and so my answer is: Yes, with all my heart! Though with all that has come to pass, I think a courtship is hardly necessary. I mean," there she stuttered, realising that she had all but proposed to him. "I... - I mean, considering what has come to pass this evening, and with you staying at Longbourn and having to bear with all the hubbub that goes with my own family, we have seen the worst of each other already, have we not?"

His reply was a surprised but hearty chuckle and catching her hand in his he brought it to his lips again to kiss it.

"Then does that mean, you would not mind me asking your father for his consent on the morrow? To marry you, that is?"

It was, perhaps, not the most romantic proposal she had ever thought of receiving, actually, when it came to that, it was actually so downright pragmatic, that such a scene had never occurred to her as yet, and if it had, she was sure she would have imagined herself to refuse, but alas, it was also the most heartfelt one she could ever have imagined and consequently her answer was again a positive one.

The rest of their ride, was as silent as it had been before, but neither of the occupants was in any way bothered by this. Mr Darcy, to her great amazement, had changed his seat to occupy the one next to her, and leaning into his shy embrace, Elizabeth was close to falling asleep when the coach suddenly halted and they had reached her aunt's and uncle's house.

"We are there, my love," Darcy whispered gently, before putting some distance between them for modesty's sake.

And not a moment too soon, it appeared, for they had not climbed out of the carriage, when the door was flung open and Mr Gardiner stepped out, his face bearing a stern expression.

"Lizzy, where the deuce have you been?" he asked, without paying the man at her side much heed. "It is past midnight. Have you any idea how worried we were?"

She had known it was late, but that it was so late, she had not realised.

"Please, Uncle, forgive me. - Us, that is. It was such a lovely evening that we have lost track of time, it seems."

It was not exactly true, she was well aware of it, but neither was it a lie.

Shaking his head in a somewhat exasperated manner, Mr Gardiner could not help smiling at their crestfallen faces.

"Ah, well, at my age one tends to forget how carried away you young folks can get," he chuckled, shaking his head, this time in obvious amusement. "But I must insist that next time you will return no later than eleven. I promised your parents to take care of you, and so I will. And with that, you, young man, are equally informed about my niece's curfew as she is."

He had turned to Mr Darcy and while his expression had not changed, his eyes suddenly began to sparkle knowingly.

"And I presume that from tonight onwards, we will have to chaperone the two of you for the foreseeable future."

"Well..." Darcy stuttered, looking perplexed in a way that made him look even more endearing than Elizabeth found him anyway.

While it was not exactly love at first sight, he had grown on her still with a quickness, that astonished her.

"How do you know, Uncle?" Elizabeth found her words again after several instances of confused muteness.

"Your hands were a good indication that you have reached an understanding."

Mr Gardiner pointed downwards, and sure enough, their hands were entwined so naturally that it had completely escaped them.


	24. Chapter 23

Early the next morning the carriage was ready to go, and Darcy after a light breakfast would have gone straight away, had he not been delayed by none other than Caroline Bingley. It was both a surprise to see her at all and even more so, to see her this early. Even in the country she tended to stick to town hours and to find her out of bed at half past eight in the morning was somewhat of a surprise, but nonetheless, there she stood in all her finery looking positively agitated, though in a rather annoying way. 

"Oh, thank goodness I have managed to get a hold of you before you set out on business!" she exclaimed breathlessly and had he not known the lady, he would have wondered who might have died or fallen ill, judging by the woeful expression of her sharp features.

"But it is a matter of urgency, or otherwise I would not have come to London to ask for your assistance. Charles always listens to your advice, rather than mine or Louisa's and though we have taken to dropping hints, he chose to not understand them," she rambled on, making his head spin slightly for all the insinuations she had uttered without saying anything decisive.

"Then perhaps you should tell me what is the matter, Miss Bingley, for I have a rather urgent business to attend to and I do not wish to delay it any more than I absolutely have to."

"Yes, yes, of course, Mr Darcy, I beg your pardon. I know you are a busy man." 

Once more she was in danger of rambling and simpering on without coming to the point. Raising a questioning eyebrow he hoped she would get the hint, and fortunately, she did. After all, Miss Bingley was no simpleton, only a highly abrasive woman to be around and it did not help very much, that she had obviously set his cap on him. Well, at least that was now sorted, though there was little doubt that she would be highly offended once she heard the news of his engagement to Miss Elizabeth. The thought brought a slight smile to his lips, which Caroline Bingley, of course, misinterpreted.

Smiling ever so coyly back at him and fluttering her eyelashes in what she obviously thought to be an endearing manner, she, at last, said in a conspiratorial whisper: "Can you believe it, Mr Darcy, but Charles intends to marry Miss Bennet!"

This came a bit earlier than he had expected, but he had thought it likely from the first time he had seen the two dancing together. Miss Bennet was as pretty as they came and well mannered and kind, and though she bore no comparison to Elizabeth, he thought she was an amiable warm-hearted girl which would suit his friend very well. After their return from the assembly in Meryton Caroline Bingley had spoken warmly about the girl all of the following day, and about her intention to befriend her, so why she now seemed to think it necessary for him to interfere in his friend's, well, her brother's affairs, he did not exactly understand. – Or at least he chose not to, for he knew quite well, that Miss Bingley was very eager to have her brother marry a rich and influential heiress, preferably stemming from a titled family, to remove the last stain of trade which the family-name of Bingley still bore. 

"And?" he inquired when she stayed silent as if this one sentence was enough of an explanation.

"And? Well, he cannot possibly marry such a woman!" she cried out indignantly. "They have no connections to speak of, their uncle is in trade, Mr Darcy In trade! – Can you imagine what kind of a buffoon he must be? Just look at her mother! And their estate is entailed, so they will have nothing. You, Mr Darcy, would never even look at a woman like that, let alone consider marrying one of her daughters."

If he was honest, had she brought forward these arguments a month ago, he would have most likely agreed with her sentiment, but now her words only made him fairly angry. Yes, Mrs Bennet might be loud and meddling and her manners were lacking, but there was little wrong with her two eldest daughters. - Quite the contrary. Yes, the Bennets' connections might be in trade, but what would it be to a family like the Bingleys? Besides, that was certainly the last thing that mattered to him. Times were changing fast and both trade and industry grew ever so much larger and efficient, he himself had made a few investments, which meant, technically speaking, that he, too, was associated with trade. But all this he could hardly tell the pouting lady standing in front of him, and that aside, the pavement was perhaps not the right place to speak about such matters.

With a sigh, he led her into the house and the front visiting room, the chairs of which were designed to keep visits as short as possible, for they were rather uncomfortable to sit on for any length of time. 

"Miss Bingley, while I understand your concern for your brother, I do not quite understand your objections to the lady. Miss Bennet is well bred, sensible, and seems to be an affectionate kind of woman with a gentle heart."

"But her relations!"

"Are admittedly not very advantageous," Darcy replied, wording his answer very carefully, "but as for Mr Gardiner, that is the uncle you so slanderously called a buffoon, he is a man of honour, highly educated with highly polished, though unpretentious manners, as is his wife, and then there is always Miss Bennet's future brother in law, who holds an estate worth several thousand pounds a year."

"But the mother!" 

"He is not marrying Mrs Bennet, but her daughter."

"But Netherfield is so close to Longbourn, she will be running around the house there forever, scaring away all of our friends and acquaintances."

"Yours, you mean."

"And I was not aware that any of the younger girls are engaged. – Then I tend to forget that you stayed with them for a week. It must have been a chore."

"No, it was actually a pleasure. They might be loud and boisterous, but they are truly good at heart – well, Miss Lydia might need a lesson in kindness here and there, but she is only fifteen, so I dare say, with them having..." there he remembered who this governess was that was supposed to keep a hoyden such as Lydia Bennet in check and instead finished flatly: "two older sisters to set a good example."

"Yes, but if Miss Bennet gets married there is only Miss Elizabeth to take care of that and from her, I got the impression that she is rather impertinent, do you not agree?"

He did not bother to remark on the first part of her supposed witty comment, but thinking of the lady in question smilingly said: "Not at all. I find her delightfully open and witty, with good judgement and a cheerful disposition."

"Oh, so when am I to congratulate you?" 

Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You can do so now if you like, Miss Bingley. I am just on my way to Hertfordshire to ask for Mr Bennet's consent."

Miss Bingley's expression on hearing his words, was the most comical thing he had seen in a while. It would be difficult to describe in all its incredulity and shock as she stood there, open-mouthed, wide-eyed, slowly beginning to hyperventilate till at last she emanated a shrill sound which bore some resemblance to the steam valve of a tin mine's pumping mechanism he had seen a couple of years ago when down in Cornwall. It certainly hurt his ears just as much as it had then.

What he did not see coming, however, was her reaching for the vase on the mantelpiece.


	25. Chapter 24

Before the footman, who stood opposite the open door across the entrance hall could react, the vase ascended on Darcy's head with astonishing force, his vision blurred and then he passed out. What happened after that, he could not possibly say, but at least Miss Bingley had been removed from the vicinity when he woke up again. With the headache he now had, that was something to be thankful for, for he doubted she would have the courtesy to hold her tongue and keep quiet, and her voice, at any rate, was irritating enough without him feeling dizzy, in pain and slightly nauseous. The footman and the butler had propped him up on the uncomfortable sofa in the parlour and he had hardly come around, his vision still slightly blurry, when Dr Hamilton stepped into the room, shaking his head in some benign bemusement.

"You seem to have a knack for getting into scrapes of that sort, it seems, Mr Darcy," he greeted, putting down his satchel. "What is it about you getting hurt? Have you taken a fancy to pain?"

Quite honestly, Darcy was immensely thankful for the doctor's jesting instead of being faced with undue concern. He had never liked when people fussed over him and as a child that had been fairly often, for there had not been a single childhood's disease he had not had, be it measles, mumps or chickenpox along with all the runny noses, bruised fingers and twisted ankles that also came with being a lively boy growing up in the country. Being the heir, and for many years the only child, every time he had fallen ill had been met with a dread beyond any reason, which in general had led to an atmosphere around the house that was nothing short of befitting for a funeral. Getting better under such circumstances had been a challenge, to say the least. 

No, this was the much better approach and he replied accordingly: "Ah well, Hamilton, the line between pleasure and pain is but a thin one."

The young man's eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise, but then on seeing Darcy's face, he started laughing.

"Seeing that you are able to joke about your injuries, I would say it is not too serious. So, let me have a look then."

Darcy, with little choice, for as soon as he raised his head felt almost overwhelmed by nausea, let him be.

"Just as I have thought, you have suffered a concussion, and that gash needs stitching. I hope your business is not too pressing, for I fear I must insist on your staying in bed for at least a couple of days."

"My business?" Darcy stuttered confused at first, before he remembered that he had planned to go to Hertfordshire that day to warn the Bennets about Mrs Younge – and ask for Mr Bennet's consent to marry his daughter. "It is pressing, I fear. I do not know what dreadful results a delay might bring."

"Then, perhaps, you should send for your solicitor to step in," Dr Hamilton replied determinedly. "You need to keep your head down, preferably in a darkened room, and rest."

"But..."

"No 'but', Mr Darcy. You have only just recovered from a severe fever and a festering wound, so I will not have any opposition in that regard. Think of your sister. She needs you. You have to rest. So, and for now, lean back so I can stitch you up."

Blast that man! He straight away had brought up the one and only point that was able to stop him from getting up and walk out of the door despite his discomfort. But he needed to do something – or at least inform Elizabeth about his mishap and the delay of his plans.

With gritted teeth he let the doctor work, refusing to take anything to numb his pain, and Dr Hamilton was done soon enough anyway.

Rather grudgingly he let his valet bring him upstairs to his chamber, help him out of his clothes and put him into bed. 

Had Caroline Bingley been within reach at that very moment, he surely would have throttled her for causing this deferment of his plans. What had that woman been thinking? That knocking him out would entice him to marry her instead of Elizabeth? Well, perhaps he had been a bit insensitive when giving her the news of his betrothal, but then again, he had always made it very clear to her, that he had no interest in her whatsoever. How she could still hold on to such a foolish fancy, made him wonder about her having any sense at all. It was all very vexing!

Despite his anger, he had fallen asleep quite quickly and when he woke up two things he noticed almost imediately: it was getting dark, and he was not alone in his room anymore. 

Turning his head slightly his breath caught, and he had to blink twice before he could be sure that he was not dreaming. There, on the small settee in front of the fireplace, the two ladies who held his heart sat comfortably together, one reading, the other drawing, using the still form of the other as a model. As silently as he could he tried to shift to see them even better, but the room, not his own bedroom, he noticed, but one to the back of the house, was so very quiet, where the noise of the traffic was nothing but a muffled rumble, both Elizabeth and Georgiana looked up at the sound of the slight rustle from his sheets.

As both ladies now glanced at him, both sporting a similar expression of relief, he tried to explain the situation as best as he could, but soon found that either of them was already better informed than he was.

"Dr Hamilton gave me instructions for your care as soon as I returned downstairs again. I sent for him immediately as soon as I saw you were injured. The footman already took care of you, and I thought it better to take care of Miss Bingley first, as neither the butler nor any other of the staff knew what to do with her, for she would not stop raging. - Which leads me to the question as to what to do with her now?" Georgiana said softly, though speaking of Miss Bingley clearly made her angry. "I have, of course, sent an express to her brother, and since the morning she has calmed down considerably. But though she currently is safely out of the way, I am greatly tempted to have her brought to Bedlam."

"Where is she?" Darcy inquired, reaching for a glass of water on his nightstand and was promptly aided by Elizabeth.

"Upstairs in the nursery. Locked in. It was the only place I could think of, and it is built to withstand tamper tantrums, is it not?"


	26. Chapter 25

Darcy had often shaken his head at Bingley, for he was quite proud of doing everything in a haste, taking Netherfield after giving it a mere a half-hour's thought, was only one example. - Not that he complained about it, quite the contrary, for had his friend not done so, he would never have met Elizabeth Bennet, the woman who had sat, along with his sister, by the fireside in his room to watch over him. Though, of course, he would have much preferred, had the occasion been a different one than a concussion caused by one of his friend's sister's temper tantrums, but this was just as well in the end, he supposed. 

At Georgiana's remark, that the lady in question was currently under lock and key in their old nursery, he had not been able to stop himself from snorting in not exactly a gentleman-like manner, but some things could not be helped, and the picture of Caroline Bingley stomping her foot, and throwing building bricks around, like he had done when but three or so, and which had popped up in his mind quite unbidden, had been too funny to refrain from laughing. 

As said, he had often shaken his head at his friend, but today, he was actually quite thankful for the haste he so often displayed, for Elizabeth had not been gone for half an hour, when he heard the ring of the doorbell, and half expecting Doctor Hamilton, was not a little surprised to find, that not five minutes later, Charles Bingley was ushered into his room.

"I had a note from your sister," he began, looking slightly embarrassed, his hands fidgeting. "Is it true then? Has that really been my sister who has done this?"

Bingley pointed at the bandage around Darcy's head, blushing, though not avoiding his eyes.

"Yes, that has been her. She had a little tantrum, I fear."

"Dear me! I have always known she was impulsive, though she hides it well. Most of the time, at least. But she has always had this way about getting angry when not getting what she wants," his friend sighed, pushing up a chair towards the bed and sitting down on it, his rumpled clothes bearing testimony of his hurried departure from Netherfield.

"Though I cannot help wondering what might have upset her so? It cannot be my declaration that I mean to marry Miss Bennet, surely," he carried on.

Darcy smirked and sat up a bit, propping himself against the pile of pillows his bed had been fitted out with earlier that day. His head felt much better already.

"Well, no, it was not your infatuation with Miss Bennet, though that, apparently, was the reason she came to London. For she tried to convince me, that I was to convince you, that it was a very foolish idea."

"What?" Bingley almost jumped from his seat at hearing those words.

"Yes, she does think that Miss Bennet is an unsuitable match and that you could do so much better."

"And you?"

"I think you could not do any better. The mother might be a bit coarse, and the younger sisters silly, and yes, their connections could be better, but as for Jane Bennet herself, I think you could not do any better than to marry her. I told your sister so."

"And that upset her?"

"It did, but it was more the information that I am engaged to Miss Elizabeth that had the vase descend on my head..."

For several minutes Darcy's words hung heavily in the air between them, then Bingley, being Bingley, began laughing cheerfully, until he remembered the actual purpose of his visit – picking up his sister and deal with her. Something he did certainly not look forward to. 

"Darcy?" he consequently asked, voice drenched with uncertainty. "What am I to do with her? Caroline, I mean."

"I do not know. What would you like to do?"

"Pack her up and sent her to Australia. I tell you, she has been impossible since you have left Hertfordshire."

"As tempting as that idea might sound, I think it might be a bit harsh," Darcy grinned. "But perhaps your relations in Scarborough might be prevailed upon to take her. At least for a couple weeks or months."

"They will be happy, I am sure," his friend replied ironically. "The best way, of course, would be to marry her off, but at this point, no-one comes to mind who would be willing to do so. So, for the moment I fear, I will have to take her home and then see what is to be done. Oh, and she will have to apologise. And properly!"

On that Darcy, at least for the moment, would have rather passed. He had no wish to see Caroline Bingley at present and said so.

"That I can very well understand, old friend. But she will, any time that is convenient for you, of course. Oh, and she will pay for the vase. - From her own money. I almost hope it was an expensive one."

It had been. Ming-Dynasty, a prime example, for though the furniture of the reception room was anything but comfortable, it was expensive, meant to impress. Darcy preferred the less pretentious rooms of his home, and though the vase had been a gift from his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, he had been but little attached to it. 

"That is just as well then," Charles Bingley replied in an off-hand manner, rising from his seat. "I have been more than generous towards Caroline these past couples of years, but no more. From now on, if she exceeds her own funds, she will have to see to it herself."

Darcy had the slight feeling that from all the punishments her brother could have given her, this was to be the worst for Miss Bingley. 



Just as he had expected, Caroline Bingley's departure from Darcy's townhouse did not go as silently as he, or, in all likeliness, her brother would have liked. The door to her prison had hardly been unlocked, when the racket began afresh and the whole house was in an uproar. And there that lady deigned to think the youngest Bennet girls to be unruly and wild!  
Though Darcy felt slightly dizzy and quite against his normal behaviour, he could not help his curiosity and thus got out of bed as the turmoil began, opened the door but a fraction and listened to what was going on outside. 

"I was locked in, Charles! Can you imagine such treatment? I was led off like a convict and locked into this... - this space, with no light and nothing. And all I got to eat was a piece of fish, some soup, a piece of roast chicken and a slice of apple tart. This is really abominable! I declare that I would never have thought Mr Darcy as vengeful as this!"

Though he assumed that Bingley had spoken before, it was only now that he raised his voice: "You can be glad they did not call for the police and have you brought before the magistrate. You should be thankful for their treatment of you, for, given the circumstances, it was more than kind."

"Kind?" Caroline shrieked indignantly. "You call that kind?"

"You had everything you needed, so yes, I do call that kind. Believe me, had it been me, I would not have been so generous as to lock you in a room with a comfortable bed, a commode, and food."

"Comfortable? That bed was far too short for me! And they did not even give me a book so I could occupy my time or anything."

"As far as I am concerned, why would they? I had hoped you had thought over your behaviour while being locked in, but apparently, I was wrong. I am most ashamed of you, I have to say..."

There Bingley's voice drifted off, as the front door was closed behind him, but sure enough, the voice of his friend had sounded both angry and disappointed.

Whether Darcy himself was disappointed at Caroline Bingley's behaviour as well, he could not quite tell. Truth be told, he had not expected much repentance from her. Comparing her to Elizabeth, a smile spread over his features, and he walked back to his bed, and until he finally fell asleep, it never left his face. Who was Miss Bingley anyway? No, she was too insignificant than to bother him at all. It would give her a distinction she certainly did not deserve.

There was but one thing he wished for right now, that Elizabeth was already his wife and here with him. Right there, in his arms.


	27. Chapter 26

Two days later Colonel Fitzwilliam and his wife arrived at his doorstep, the latter looking much better than he had anticipated, considering that Fitzwilliam had told him she was feeling not all too well. Then again, Anne had always had a sickly constitution, so perhaps he should see it in relative terms.

Darcy was up and sitting in his study when the butler announced his visitors and with a jovial "I heard you were still in London," from the colonel both his cousins strolled in.

"I had a little run in, I fear," Darcy said, unwilling to relate to the particulars of Caroline Bingley's tantrum.

"So it seems. I hope the fellow you fought with looks worse."

"Hardly."

"Shame," Anne said in such dry a tone that he could not help laughing.

There was no reason to ask why they had come, it was obvious. They were here to take away his sister to the country, and though he had expected as much, now that the time had come, he felt uneasy. And yet, with her slender frame and graceful figure, even now Georgiana already looked as if she had eaten slightly too much, and it would not be before the end of many weeks when gossip would start. It was lucky that her maid was not of the gossiping kind and that Mrs Annesley, though more often engaged than he would have liked, was such a trustworthy lady, who was not in the habit of judging nor gossiping. But she had her own establishment to run.

And sure enough, his visitors had barely sat down, when Anne began speaking: "I know this seems a bit rushed, but when Richard told me about Georgiana's situation, I thought it best to act as quickly as possible and remove her from London."

Anne, so quiet and docile around her mother, had always had a habit of being rather blunt with everybody else. 

"I have made inquiries and found a house in the south of Cornwall that would suit us all just fine," she carried on. "Richard thought of going to his estate in Ireland, but I am not sure the rough winter-weather there will agree with me, and I have heard that that part of the country is very mild even in winter. - It is also very remote, so I made the arrangements."

Other people would have thrown in several apologies for having been so forward, but not his cousin. Lady Catherine always thought of herself as a practical person and her advice was plentiful, but it was really Anne who managed to look at a situation and act accordingly. One had to appreciate her already alone for that. 

Swallowing hard, Darcy asked: "And when do you intend to leave?"

"As soon as possible, I would say."

"Well, the roads will not get any better," her husband threw in, earning a nod from the two others. 

"But," Anne piped up again, "before we decide anything, I would say we call down Georgiana. This will, after all, affect her the most."

To that Darcy did not reply. She certainly had a point, but it was not, as if her going away was much easier on him. He would miss her and he would worry about his little sister, even though he could be sure this time around, that she was well looked after. Georgiana was summoned and not five minutes later she stepped into the study, her face at the same time anxious and happy at seeing her cousins.

However, the whole affair was settled so quickly and with so little opposition from his sister, who by now had accepted her fate in a manner he was not sure he could ever accept it himself, that a half-hour later it was decided that they would leave in three days time.

"It is more than enough time for me to have my things packed and be ready," Georgiana had said in a resigned tone of voice, which was bound to break his heart. 

With a smile, she added: "Though I have to say that I will be forever sorry for not being present at your wedding, dear brother."

Fitzwilliam Darcy had not thought of that. 

Blinking he replied: "We can wait, of course."

"No, please, I do not want to be the reason for you to delay marrying Elizabeth. You love her and I can see that you want to be with her. Do not burden me with the knowledge that you have postponed your own happiness in order to suit my fancy."

He wished he could say something sensible in reply, something that neither sounded overbearing nor pitiful. As if she knew what was going on in his mind, his sister smiled and putting both her hands on his shoulders kissed his forehead in a disturbingly motherly kind of way.

When in the world, had his sister grown up so much?

"All will be well, Fitzwilliam, I am sure. You take care of yourself from now on. You had much suffering of late and all because of me."

"No, not all."

"No, I had little to do with Miss Bingley knocking you out with a vase," she now grinned.

"Miss Bingley did that?" 

Of course, the colonel had to pick up on that. Darcy only nodded.

"On purpose?" Anne inquired, looking slightly amused, presumably wondering why.

"Yes, on purpose. After I told her I was getting married to Miss Elizabeth Bennet she reached for a vase and beat me over the head with it."

"So that is a settled thing? You marrying Miss Bennet I mean. That was rather quick of you, I have to say. Did not think you had it in you, old fellow," Fitzwilliam chuckled. "But she is a very fine lady, and I do like her. She will suit you admirably.”

"Then I think congratulations are in order, are they not?" 

Anne sounded equally amused than her husband.

"What, pray is so funny?" Darcy could not help asking, and blushed a little at thinking it was because he had been knocked out by a woman, for after that it was difficult to call Miss Bingley a lady any longer.

"Well, you getting married at last. It was about time, I have to say. But then again, you have always been a picky one."

"I would not say that trying to find the one woman who would make me happy, and I her in return, would make me 'picky', as you have called it, Fitzwilliam," Darcy replied with some relief.

"No, probably not. But it does make you a romantic – which is some revelation!" Anne cried out with glee. "But please, do tell me what has become of the infamous Miss Bingley after she shattered that vase on your head? I hope she did not get away too lightly."

A bit grudgingly Darcy explained what the lady's brother intended to do.

"If Bingley only sends her away to some relatives, that is not much of a punishment, is it?" Colonel Fitzwilliam remarked when he had finished. "I would have sent her to prison for it. Such behaviour is unacceptable."

While Darcy did not want to see Miss Bingley in prison, after her rant later on that very same evening when she had been picked up by her brother, he could not help but agree that it would be not much of a punishment at all – at least not for her. For her relatives, it presumably would be the more so. But anyway, it was not his decision, so there was no use thinking too much about it, and not now at any rate.

"I agree, it is on Mr Bingley to see to her being punished accordingly, and I hope he will think it over. Dear me, I would have spanked her bottom for it, had I been in his place. She behaved like a spoiled child, she should be treated as such."

"That is why I had her locked into the nursery," Georgiana said dryly, her lips twitching as she added: "But I do get the feeling that she might actually enjoy a good spanking."


	28. Chapter 27

The two days till Georgiana's departure had passed in a blur, and before Darcy knew it, the time to part with his sister had come. Anne and Richard Fitzwilliam had arrived by mid-morning and quickly their young cousin's trunks had been packed and soon, after they had taken a cup of tea together, they had set off towards Cornwall. He wished he could be as composed as his little sister, the very sister who had now grown up so quickly, but in going back into the house all alone, Darcy felt exceptionally low. There was only one way to counteract such low spirits, and he had hardly sat down behind his desk when he jumped up again to call for his coach to pay a last visit in Gracechurch Street before he himself would leave London for a week or so. 

The Gardiners and their charming niece had just sat down for lunch and most cordially was he invited to join them. An invitation that was gladly accepted. Other than he was accustomed to, the children partook in the family meal instead of eating up in the nursery and consequently there was no time for gloomy thoughts, just as he had hoped.

Before Darcy knew it, he had been claimed by the older of the two young boys, sitting to his left as he tugged at the sleeve of his coat.

"Sir," he was addressed unabashedly, "can you please cut my slice of meat?"

Mrs Gardiner, who sat on the boy's other side was currently occupied in doing just that for her other son, and almost apologetically she glanced over at her unexpected visitor.

Bowing graciously, Darcy replied to the little chap's plea: "But of course, Master Gardiner."

Elizabeth smiled at him, as he patiently cut the braised slice of beef into small enough pieces for the child to put into his mouth.

"I thank you, Sir," the boy answered with a sincerity that had him smile, the first bit of meat already half-way to his mouth.

"It is my pleasure. Would you like me to cut your potatoes as well?"

"I do not like potatoes all that much," the child replied, earning a giggle from his two older sisters.

"Hm, neither do I, but I do have a suggestion..." there he had cast a quick glance at Elizabeth, who had watched the intercourse with some amusement.

Before the boy could reply, Darcy had pulled his plate closer to himself, taken up his fork and unceremoniously began mashing the but few potatoes before pouring a generous amount of gravy over them.

"Now, try," he told the startled boy with a grin on his face and he could not help thinking that in a few years, how old was the boy, three or four perhaps?, it would be his and Elizabeth's children assembled around the table at Pemberley just as unaffected as they did now. 

Yes, he quite liked the idea. A meal should be a family affair. 

"Now I do like them!" little Master Gardiner exclaimed, half his face smeared with sauce.

"See," Darcy replied, and with yet another glance at his betrothed and then a conspiratorial one at the child next to him, he did the unthinkable mashing his own potatoes and sauce into a brown heap.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner could hardly help to chuckle, and when Elizabeth's tinkling laugh could not be suppressed any longer, the whole room erupted in laughter. A moment of carefree and unabashed cheerfulness that had his heart swell despite all his worries.

But soon enough it was time to leave, lest it would get too late to travel the four and twenty miles to Hertfordshire, and he was once again grateful to the Gardiners for giving him a few minutes of privacy with Elizabeth.

"So, you are to leave..." she began, her eyes averted.

Gently raising her chin with his hand, he smiled at her: "But before you know it, I will be back, my dear."

"Are you feeling well enough to travel?" her concern touched him, and it was hard to resist to not pull her closer. 

"Yes, Elizabeth, I feel quite well."

"And how are you faring with having said good-bye to your sister this morning?"

Swallowing hard it was now him averting his eyes, unwilling to let her see the pain in them. So many thoughts swirled in his mind. It was not only his sister's emotional well-being that worried him, but she was so young, and his mother had died in childbirth taking Georgiana's twin with her. He had never told his sister. Yet another burden he carried. But no, he would not go there! His sister would live. 

'And so will the child', a small voice at the back of his mind whispered, 'Anne and Richard deserve to be parents'. 

With his mind miles away, it took him a moment to feel the arms wrapped around his middle and the head leaning against his shoulder. Looking down he looked straight into Elizabeth's gentle eyes, eyes filled with compassion and... - love. 

As if reading his innermost thoughts she reached up to caress his cheek before gently saying: "All will be well, Fitzwilliam. She will be well. She is young and strong."

He dearly hoped she was right, and unable to utter a word, all he did was put his own arms around her to hold her close. He could have stayed like this forever, but after a couple of blissful minutes, Mrs Gardiner came back into the room and the time had come that he had to go.



All the way, Darcy kept wondering how to best address the two issues at hand. When first he had decided to warn Mr Bennet about Mrs Younge's character, he had considered it a pretty straightforward business, but now it occurred to him, that questions might arise that were all but impossible to answer. Yet admittedly, he certainly would have them would someone come to him to doubt one of his servants good name. Especially when that servant had been carefully examined by such trustworthy a man like Mr Gardiner. How could he even have assumed that her references were anything but legitimate? And how would he be received when he asked for Elizabeth's hand in marriage? Though he had little doubt that they would be happy together, that they suited each other perfectly, were he in Mr Bennet's shoes, he would presumably doubt it as well. It was but little more than a month that they had known each other. There had been no previous connection between their families and then there was the fact that he had slighted Elizabeth upon first meeting her. Could her father look past that as easily as she had done? With a woeful smile, he once more thought of Georgiana and that he presumably would not have taken such an offence lightly. He should have behaved more gentlemanly, no matter the pain he had been in.


	29. Chapter 28

When Darcy arrived at Netherfield Park, it was dark already, and a slight drizzle had set in. The weather was about as uncomfortable as he felt. With a deep sigh, he got out of the carriage, preparing for what must ultimately be a timid and embarrassing meeting for both of them – for him, as well as for Miss Bingley. It had presumably been the only thing he had not mulled over during his journey. There was no point in doing so, after all. For once it fell not to his lot to deal with such a hag of a sister.

He had barely reached the first step to the front door, when promptly it swung open to reveal Bingley himself, and a slightly disgruntled looking butler, bereft of doing his duty. 

"Ah, there you are at last!" his friend cried out, reaching out his hand to pull him in, in a way so unceremoniously that only good friends were forgiven such an exuberance and that he did so, Darcy thought to be a good sign.

His friend at least was his usual cheerful self and considering what had passed not a week ago, that was something. He greatly cherished the young man's friendship, and to know that he was still as welcome as he had ever been, was comforting. Still, he wondered when Caroline Bingley's piercing voice would ring in his ears, for he doubted greatly that as yet she had come to repent her actions or had changed her ways. She had always been stubborn and self-centred all her life, and though she certainly saw that she had been very wrong in her actions, there was every reason to believe, that as yet, she would deny the fact. 

But there he was wrong, well not in thinking that his friend's sister still refused to see her being at fault, but in expecting to hear her voice. 

With a slight frown, Bingley looked at him intently and then chuckled dryly: "Oh, do not worry, Caroline is not here, and neither are Louisa and Mr Hurst. The latter two have decided that it is time to return to London and have left yesterday, and as for Caroline, I have made arrangements..."

"So she is on her way to Scarborough then?"

"No. You can hardly have failed to hear her tirade when we left your house, and about half-way here I have had enough once and for all."

"She is not somewhere six feet under, is she?" Darcy inquired, raising an eyebrow in mock scepticism.

"No, six feet was a bit too much for me to manage, three feet will have to suffice."

Bingley, as cheerful as he always was, had a decided streak for dark humour, which had surprised many people who only knew him to be all affability and friendliness. This dark side did not show often, but it always took even Darcy by surprise.

"Alright, alright, she is, of course, still alive and well, as far as I know, though I could have strangled her several times over on our way hither. Gagging was another alternative I considered."

"Bingley, really!" Darcy could not help laughing at his friend's exasperation.

"Oh well, fine. I have confiscated her allowance and had her pack her things, save for her jewels and silk dresses, which were pretty much all but three, and now she resides in 'Mrs Elton's School for Intractable Young Ladies' down in Surrey. – As parlour-boarder."

Darcy only stared at him, unsure whether his friend, was in earnest or still jesting. After all, Caroline Bingley was two and twenty. Really, Miss Bingley at a school for misbehaving young women of society? The image was a charming one. Though it must be a joke, surely.

"Well, I did consider for her to be removed into a cottage, but for the time being, I thought it better to have her under some guidance. I have to admit, it quite escaped me, just how spoilt she is and that she would do anything to have her own way. Never in my life have I seen Louisa as shocked as when she found out what has happened. It was her who mentioned the institution, remarking that it would have done Caroline some good, had she been there for some time."

"At which you thought better now than never?"

"Yes," Bingley replied dryly. "And it is also lucky, that Mrs Elton's School is always glad to have the one or other parlour-boarder to help around the house. The girls there are not allowed a lot of comfort, and no luxuries at all. Well, not surprising considering that most of them are there to be taught not only manners but also humility and gratefulness."

Humility and gratefulness were definitely two things Miss Bingley as yet had to learn, manners, as well, perhaps, though usually, they were impeccable. - Unless when told that the man she had set her cap on was to marry another woman, and especially when she deemed that woman far beneath herself.

Subconsciously Darcy reached up to where there was still a slight scab, though the wound had healed surprisingly quickly and he would have to go and see Mr Jones to have his stitches removed sometime soon.

Bingley, smiling no longer, extended his hand: "Darcy, please let me tell you again, just how sorry I am, for what you had to endure and how ashamed of my sister's behaviour."

"There is nothing you have to apologise for. And hey, soon we might be brothers."

"Actually, soon we will be brothers, Darcy. Jane has accepted me, and her father has given his consent."

Darcy hardly dared to hope that Mr Bennet would give him his consent with equal willingness, but he was happy for his friend onetheless. Bingley was a good man, and he deserved all the happiness there was to be had. And with his younger sister safely out of the way, there now was every chance of it. Louisa Hurst would not pose a problem once separated from her youngest sibling's influence, and at any rate, she, too, had gone.

"Come now, Darcy, you do look severe for a man who is about to bring home his bride," Bingley laughed, when a while later they sat together over supper.

"I dare say it is a bit prematurely to think of bringing home my bride," Darcy replied, though the thought warmed his heart and even made him blush slightly. 

Since lunch, he had been unable to completely ban the thought of his future children from his mind, and of Elizabeth being their loving mother. It had been, what had kept him from sinking into one of his dark moods while pondering on all the unpleasant things that lay ahead of him, and suddenly he realised that ever since he had met her, it had been the thought of Elizabeth, her smile, her kindness, her honesty and wit, that had kept him from going down this dark and lonely road again and again as he was in the habit of doing ever so often. 

The sense that there was someone caring for him, without being dependant on him, at least as yet, was a beautiful one. Yes, there was Georgiana, and he knew she loved him unconditionally and dearly – as a brother, but this was different. Elizabeth loved him for himself. For the man, he was, despite all his faults and all his troubles. How could he not love such a woman?


	30. Chapter 29

Nervously Fitzwilliam Darcy got dressed to ride over to Longbourn. Never in his life had he felt so very fretful, and he could not remember a time when last he was so anxious that his palms were sweaty. He had slept badly, to say the least, and risen early only to restlessly wandered up and down the length of his room. What should he say? What should he address first? It would help if he were less awkward with words, but alas, he was not. 

When at last it was time for breakfast, he felt like a nervous wreck. Bingley glanced at him with compassion, but when he offered to come along to Longbourn, Darcy declined. 

"No, Bingley, this I will have to do alone. Not that I can keep you away from Miss Bennet, but I beg you to give me at least an hour before you come over as well."

To that Bingley acquiesced readily, remarking with a wry grin: "Which is just as well, for I have some business to attend to. Though, dear me, have you slept at all?"

"Yes, though not very well."

"You know, Mr Bennet will not tear your head off."

"No, but he might refuse his consent, which adds up to pretty much the same thing," Darcy replied with a wry smile of his own, though he felt far from smiling. 

Taking little more than a cup of tea and half a slice of toast, he soon got on his way towards Longbourn. 



The morning was a particularly fine one for this time of year and the ride would have been an enjoyable one, had it not been for his anxiety. His spirits were little lifted when upon arriving at Longbourn House the door was flung open and he found the whole of it in an uproar. So much so, that he went completely unnoticed, even though under different circumstances he would be hard to miss as he stood there with his horse not twenty feet away and so, with some bewilderment and indignation Darcy watched the scene unfold before him.

"Where do you think you are going, Miss Lydia?" the stern voice of Mrs Younge sounded through the open entrance door, the girl in question standing in the doorway in her bonnet and spencer.

"I am on my way to Meryton, Mrs Younge," the girl replied with little respect.

"And your lessons?"

"Mama gave me permission."

"That is of little consequence, Miss Lydia, you have your lessons to attend to and afterwards we can all go."

"La, Mama thinks you are treating us far too harshly. And besides, I need to go to the milliner's."

"You went there only last week and brought back two bandboxes, five satin ribbons as well as enough lace to last you beyond the remainder of the year," the governess replied with forced patience.

"But with my sister's wedding coming up..." Lydia Bennet tried to argue, sounding more like a five-year-old than a girl of fifteen.

"It has not even been announced, Miss Lydia, there is enough time to wait until the afternoon when we can all go and that is my final word. Now close the door and come into the drawing room. The sooner you do so, the sooner we will get away."

With that, Darcy had thought the argument would be settled, but just then Mrs Bennet's shrill voice piped up: "Mrs Younge, what is all this hubbub all about? My poor nerves are suffering for it! Try to keep order."

"Mrs Younge refuses to let me go to Meryton, Mama," was the lady's youngest's petulant reply, not giving her governess a chance to answer the question that had actually been addressed to her. "And you know I have to prepare for Jane's wedding, for I have nothing fit to wear."

"You are so right my dear. You will have to look your best, for, of course, Jane will want all of you to be bridesmaids. Oh, let her go, Mrs Younge. My poor nerves cannot stand such argument this early in the day."

"As I have told Miss Lydia, we can all go to Meryton after their lessons and since she cannot stay away from the officers, I do not at all think it wise to have her go to Meryton on her own," Mrs Younge replied calmly but firmly.

"La, I have always gone to Meryton on my own before. - Or rather with Kitty, but she does not really signify."

"Lydia, how can you say such a thing?" Mrs Younge scolded. "Until you learn how to behave and treat others with respect and kindness, you will not go to Meryton unattended and that is final. Your business in life is not to pursue pleasure, but to grow into a lady such as your two older sisters – and as yet, you are far from it, I fear."

"You only say so to keep me away from the officers, for you cannot stand us having fun while you have to stand by."

With cold civility, Mrs Young answered: "While the former is perfectly true, the latter is not. They might be credible enough, but you are too young to flirt and cohort with them. - And I have no interest in this sort of men. As soon as they are stationed somewhere else, they will forget all about you, while you are left with a broken heart, if not worse."

Her voice had sounded so cold, that Darcy almost shivered at hearing it, but the implication was clear enough. Darcy swallowed, thinking of his sister. There she had not had such scruples as she seemed to have now.

"La, you are only jealous that Lieutenant Wickham was so taken by me. He is such a charming man – and so handsome. Do not think I did not see how you looked at him! You were furious that he was ignoring you, were you not? But what would he want with a woman as old as you?"

Wickham was here?! Good Lord, it could not be, could it? Holding firmer onto the reins of his horse Darcy felt actually faint now. This was getting worse and worse, and as yet he still stood there unnoticed. Perhaps that was not such a bad thing, considering what he had been able to overhear. 

"I do not care what he might do with women my age, but I know what he would do with girls of your's if he has the chance and as long as he is around here, I will not let you out of my sight, and now get into the drawing room, before I lose my patience."

"And what will you do then? Spank me, or have me stand in the corner?"

"No, have you read from Fordyce's Sermons for an hour – aloud!"

Once more Mrs Bennet tried to interfere, but finally, Mr Bennet stepped forward and in a loud tone of voice demanded there to be peace and quiet. Darcy could not help wondering where he had been all this time or why he had not done anything sooner. For once, Darcy had to admit, he was on Mrs Younge's side.

That lady was just about to close the front door when her eyes, finally, fell on him and widened in surprise and shock.


	31. Chapter 30

"Mr Darcy!" Mrs Younge cried out in surprise, then her hands reached out for his and a smile of such relief spread over her face that Darcy could not help but be confused.

Behind her he heard two doors close – the one to the library and the one to the drawing room, he presumed.

"Oh, how glad I am you have come, Sir," his sister's former governess carried on. "Are you well? I have heard that you have taken ill while visiting here a couple of weeks ago. How is Miss Darcy? Please tell me she is well!"

Her face was all concern, but he would not fall for it. She was not to be trusted. His ire rose with every word she spoke. 

Had she not re-introduced that blackguard Wickham back into Georgiana's life, nothing of this would have happened. His sister would not have been ruined, with child and exiled in Cornwall. No, she would lead a happy life without worries, as would he, or at least the latter, for his happiness would only be complete once he got Mr Bennet's permission to marry Elizabeth, but that would have to wait now.

At last, Darcy did manage to rein in his surprise, anger and contempt enough to answer through clenched teeth: "Mrs Younge, my sister's well-being is none of your concern. You have lost that privilege when you betrayed our trust – as you are now betraying that of the Bennets. How you have managed to impose yourself upon them, I do not know, but I assume that a couple of false documents did the trick."

"They did, and I am not proud of it, believe me. But I had to find work and you would not hear me."

"Hear you? What was there to say that circumstance had not told me already?"

"A great deal, it seems,” she replied calmly, looking straight at him. "I understand your anger, Mr Darcy, but it is directed towards the wrong person, let me assure you."

"Mrs Younge, I am here to tell Mr Bennet of your deceit, and now, please let me pass and seek an audience with him."

"Then let me come with you. Let Mr Bennet be my judge. Every convict has a right to defend himself as best as he can. Why will you not hear me out? Wickham is here, and you know what that means. He is the devil!"

Her eyes had widened and her face had grown pale and suddenly he understood. She was just another victim that dastard had taken advantage of. He had misjudged her but not before but later.

"I will hear you, Mrs Younge," he eventually said.

Stepping back, Mrs Younge let him pass and knocked on the door of the library. A surly request for entry was uttered from the other side and she opened the door.

Mr Bennet sat in an armchair in front of the fireplace reading a book or rather had been reading a book, for now, he looked up, frowning.

"What is it, Mrs Younge?" he asked impatiently. "Are Kitty and Lydia giving you trouble once again?"

"Well, yes, Sir, as you very well know, but that is not why I am here, Sir. Mr Darcy is here to speak to you."

"Did he say what about?"

"Yes. Me," she answered with great dignity, though her hand trembled as it rested on the doorknob. "Mr Darcy came here to tell you that I am an imposter and not to be trusted."

"Mrs Younge, please..." Darcy mumbled, feeling suddenly very abashed. 

"No, Sir, it is why you have come here. Let us be frank. There have been too many misunderstandings already to beat about the bush. And besides, there is an issue that should be addressed and quickly."

"Well, you have managed to intrigue me, Mrs Younge. Come in, and I will hear the two of you."

Both stepped into Mr Bennet's library and Darcy carefully closed the door behind himself. At the moment, Elizabeth's father looked nothing but bemused, and indeed, it was a curious situation, to say the least. He had been adamant that Mrs Younge was a good for nothing woman, hiding out her time here in the country, but now it seemed as if he had to evaluate his judgement. Suddenly there was something like regret, that he had not listened to her when she had first tried to speak to him right after he had saved Georgiana. 

"Would you like to speak for yourself?" Darcy inquired, addressing Mrs Younge.

"No," was her almost wry reply. "I first want to hear what I am charged with."

"Mr Bennet, I have come here to warn you about Mrs Younge. She used to be my younger sister's governess and companion before she came here and as far as I understood from Miss Elizabeth, she has used false references to access this position."

"Is any of this true?" Mr Bennet interrupted him.

"Yes, Sir, all of it. I was cast out in disgrace by Mr Darcy. - And not unjustly."

"As I have said, Mrs Younge used to be in charge of my sister's education. She is an able woman, firm but kind – in that regard, I have nothing bad to say about her. However, last summer, when my sister, due to a severe cough which she had suffered from since the spring, went to Ramsgate with her, she re-introduced my sister to a man who is nothing but a conniving, lying blackguard and..."

Good Lord, how was he to proceed without betraying Georgiana's blunder?

"And that man persuaded my charge to be in love with him. She was but fifteen," Mrs Younge finished the sentence for him with a discretion that gave her credit. "She consented to an elopement, but fortunately Mr Darcy came just in time to safe her from that man's clutches."

"Is that where you got shot, then?" Mr Bennet asked his face showing nothing but concern and compassion. 

Well, Mr Bennet knew very well what foolish young girls could get up to and that love was a constant folly they followed throwing every caution to the wind.

"Yes, Mr Bennet, that is how I contracted my injury."

"I hope he hanged for it or was thrown into prison at the very least."

"No, Mr Bennet, he is here, in Hertfordshire. He seems to have recently joined the militia," Mrs Younge replied in a strained voice. 

"He managed to make it look like an act of self-defence. The whole inn where all of this took place can testify to it and I could hardly tell anybody the reason why I drew my pistol when he would not let go of my sister, without ruining her there and then."

The plea in his eyes was unmistakable and Mr Bennet nodded curtly.

"I assure you, Mr Darcy, that this will stay between us. A lady's reputation is brittle as it is and with your information, I dare say you have saved my daughters from suffering the same fate, if not worse, considering that I have not your vigour. - But what was your part, Mrs Younge? You do not strike me as a traitorous woman in the short time you have stayed with us and without wanting to flatter myself, I have to say I am a good judge of character, a trait that unfortunately I only gained at the age of around thirty..."

Despite all, Darcy could not quite help the slight twitch of the corners of his mouth at that statement.

Taking a deep breath, the lady began her tale: "I grew up on a small estate much like this one, on the other side of Lambton, a small marked town five miles from Mr Darcy's estate. I knew that Mr Wickham was held in high esteem by the old Mr Darcy and that he was his godson. Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham grew up together and that was all I knew, for when I was fourteen, my parents died, the estate was entailed and I lost my home. I was taken in by my mother's sister and her husband, though I cannot say that I was readily welcome. They had several children of their own and I was just another mouth to feed. Over the years I grew up, received a decent enough education, so I could take up a position as a governess and that was to be my fate. However, I gradually fell in love with my oldest cousin, and he with me. Six years ago we married and I bore him a daughter. Four years ago, Henry died from scarlet fever, as did my aunt and uncle. My little Isabel and I were left alone and destitute as all their money went to my husband's younger brother, who at the time was a lieutenant in the navy. I do not know what has become of him and at any rate, he never liked me very much. I dare doubt that even had he known of my predicament, that he would have helped me. But I needed a home for me and my child, and in my hour of need, I contacted an old friend of mine from school. Mrs Ferrars is married but childless, and she took in my little Bella without hesitation, so I could make my way in the world. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I first took up a position in London as a companion to an old widow, why eventually passed away, then Mr Darcy hired me as governess for his sister. When Mr Wickham turned up in Ramsgate, all I knew about him was what I had known of him from my time in Lambton. That he was good and amiable and an honourable man, closely connected to the Darcy-Family. It never for a moment crossed my mind that he might have any designs on Miss Darcy that were far from honourable. I encouraged his visits, was glad that my charge had some company other than myself – and a man, on top of that, I assumed must be almost as close as a brother to her. When I realised what was going on, I confronted Mr Wickham, spoke to Miss Darcy, but there was nothing that could be done. I had realised too late what a foul man he is. He threatened me, that if I would do anything about their intended elopement he would do harm to my little girl. I presume Miss Darcy had told him my tale, for she is the only person at the time and place who knew as much of me. All that was left to do was, to inform Mr Darcy. But I could not be sure that my letters were not intercepted. With malicious glee, I had been forced to read the letter that would inform Mr Darcy of the elopement and was sworn to post it two days after they had departed, and I took my chance. I re-opened it and marked some words I was sure would warn Mr Darcy, and then I sent the letter a day ahead."

"You did that?" Darcy asked in astonishment. 

The tale he had heard made strangely sense. Never had he told anyone of his dealings with Mr Wickham. Not how he had been given money in lieu of the living his father had promised to him, nor that he had repeatedly paid his debts. His desolate behaviour at Cambridge he had kept a secret even from his own father, so how could Mrs Younge possibly have known? No, he must consider her utterly blameless in this. It was a disconcerting thought and yet somewhat appeasing. At least by her confidante his sister had not been betrayed.

"Yes, Mr Darcy, I did that," she replied calmly, though a single tear ran down her cheek. "It was little enough. - I was obviously thrown out in disgrace and without references, and in my desperation, I bought some falsified references that would give me the opportunity to work again. I hope you can forgive me, Mr Bennet."

For a moment the man thus addressed sat there staring into the fire, his mien thoughtful. When he looked up again, he smiled.

"I think, Mrs Younge, it is time for my daughters' lessons, do you not agree?"


	32. Chapter 31

"So, who is this man Wickham?" Mr Bennet inquired after Mrs Younge had left to get back to her charges. "I have heard my youngest two speak of him in the highest terms, from when they met at my sister's – Mrs Phillips that is, you might remember her from your stay here, Mr Darcy, though I think you have been lucky enough to escape her conversation."

Darcy nodded thoughtfully, and then, taking a deep sigh he began his tale of Mr Wickham and his connection to his own family.

"Mr Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who for many years had the care of my father's estates. The old Mr Wickham began his professional career as an attorney, but due to his wife's extravagance was rather poor, when he, recently widowed then, applied for the position as our steward. Which was when I was around one year old, so I have known him basically all my life," for a moment Darcy's face softened as he recalled this carefree period of his life. "He was a hard-working, a most honourable man, and he was held in high esteem everywhere he was known. Moreover, he became a good friend to my father and a deserving one at that. That must be understood: the old Mr Wickham was one of the best men I have ever met, with a steady character, a great sense of honour and great intelligence, while at the same time he was a rather humble fellow, much liked by everyone, be it his betters or the ones working under him. - His son, however, much resembled his mother, I fear. I have, of course, never known her, but from what I have gathered, she was a very selfish creature, idle, vain and spending more than she ought and beyond. Her husband, besotted with his beautiful wife and blind to her wiles for she must have been very charming, realised too late that his fortune had dwindled into non-existence and eventually slipped into debt."

There Mr Bennet gave a self-deprecating huff before, with a curt nod, showed his visitor to carry on.

"Mr Wickham and I grew up together as boys. We played and took our lessons, and my father paid for his education to be as good as was mine, supported him at Eton and later at Cambridge, in short, gave him every opportunity to a good start in life. He was also my father's godson, and as such almost like a second son to him, much as I was like a second son to the old Mr Wickham."

Mr Bennet nodded to show that he still followed his tale, while at the same time pouring a glass of port for both of them.

The softness which had spread over Darcy's features hardened once again, as he carried on: "But even then, Mr Wickham had a tendency to get into mischief, and would not only never own up to any of his pranks, but moreover would blame them on others, whether it be one of the servants, or me, or any of my cousins. I was too young at the time to really see through all his schemes, and while we both attended Eton at the same time, we belonged to different circles there, and different classes, for he is about a year younger than I, and so for a time I had fairly little to do with him. Once we were at Cambridge and he was let loose, unattended by the constant guide from his teachers, I found his habits to be appalling. He gambled away his allowances or spent the money on the company of certain women and when all was gone, he usually applied to me. For the sake of his and my own dear father, I did not say anything, for both had grown old before their time, and neither was in good health. I feared the burden might be too much to bear for either of them. So, I helped Wickham out with what I had at my disposal, though, naturally, it increasingly vexed me."

He stopped to take a sip of the offered port. To tell this story was painful, for it was a clear reminder of how much he missed his parents and his father in particular. 

"Well, with that he is good company, is he not?" Mr Bennet interrupted his thoughts. "He would not be the first young man to live a life of idleness and dissipation during his years at university, and most men grow out of it to be honourable and upright."

"That may be true, Mr Bennet, and I would be lying if I claimed that I had always behaved as I ought, never drunken more than was good for me, never once sat down gambling, or seeking other means of pleasure, but in Mr Wickham's case it is not so, I fear. Upon my father's death, he was bequeathed the sum of one thousand Pounds and he also received the sum of three thousand in lieu for a living that my father had promised him, and which he duly declined, determined that he had no intention of taking orders. All ties seem to be dissolved after that. His own father had died shortly after mine. How he lived, I know not, but..." he halted, running his hand through his already dishevelled hair, wondering if he really could dare to confide in the man before him.

Patiently Mr Bennet leaned back in his armchair, sensing his visitor's distress. 

Five minutes passed in silence when Mr Bennet began softly: "You need not say more, Mr Darcy. Mrs Younge has already said everything that was necessary to tell me that your warning is justified. Though I do get the idea that the compromise went further than him just trying to elope with your sister."

"Yes."

"Good God, man! No wonder you slighted my daughter at the ball. Is your sister well?" 

That reaction and the compassion in the man's voice surprised him, for there was not the slightest censure nor disgust, only heartfelt concern. Mr Bennet apparently did not judge either, just like his daughter, and Darcy was most thankful for that. He increasingly came to like this fellow.

"She is currently on her way down to Cornwall with my cousin and his wife, who unable to have children of their own, will take in my niece or nephew as theirs," Darcy's voice was but a mere whisper, and yet, to confide in this man was surprisingly comforting. "No-one knows about her condition aside from Colonel Fitzwilliam, my cousin, and his wife Anne, as well as Elizabeth and now you. Not even Bingley is aware of it, and I would like for it to stay that way for the present."

"Of course, Mr Darcy."

Mr Bennet, pondered for a while on what he had just heard, and then a small frown crept across his face and suddenly he asked: "Have I missed something, or is there any particular reason why you speak of my daughter in such familiar terms?"

"Well...," Darcy stuttered, and as much as had felt at ease a moment before after having shared his burden, now began to feel as nervous as a boy just having broken a window.

"Well?" Mr Bennet prodded.

"There is another reason for me to be here, Mr Bennet. You daughter Elizabeth has consented to become my wife and I, most humbly ask for your permission to marry her, Sir."

Whatever it was he had expected, it was not the soft chuckle of her father that slowly but surely turned into full-blown laughter. 

"Hm," he, at last, chortled, "that went rather quickly. Who would have thought?"

"Pardon?"

"Oh come now, Mr Darcy, do you think me blind? Whilst you were staying here I saw that both of you were in great danger of losing your hearts to one another, and then Lizzy defended you against her mother and I knew it was only a matter of time until I would lose her to you. I am resigned to my fate. In short, set a date – though I actually would be quite glad if it coincided with my eldest daughter's and your friend's wedding. It would safe me the trouble of having to bear my wife rattling on about wedding clothes twice when once is already more than anyone can put up with without losing one's sanity."

"I thank you most humbly."

"Good, and if you please, do so in most humbly removing yourself from my study now, for I need to think over a couple of things. - Oh, and tell my daughter Jane to write to Lizzy, to ask her to come back home. If she is the one to get married, she just as I, can put up with her mother's exuberant exclamations of joy and surprise. - And so can you, Mr Darcy, which is why I charge you to inform her post-haste about your upcoming nuptials and hopefully by dinnertime her fluttering nerves have settled enough to use her mouth for eating."


	33. Chapter 32

Torn between the relief of Mr Bennet's consent and the dread of facing his future mother in law, Darcy left the library and was promptly met by none other than his smirking friend who seemed to have arrived just now.

"And?" Bingley inquired, though not requiring an answer, for the sheepish grin on Darcy's face as well as a very slight blush told him that his plight had been successful. "I congratulate you, Darcy. Ha, we are to be brothers it seems."

"Yes, so it seems, Bingley," Darcy replied and then sighed heavily resigned to his more immediate fate. 

"What is it?"

"I agreed to tell Mrs Bennet about Elizabeth's and my betrothal," he answered wryly.

"She will be mightily happy, I am certain," Bingley assured him.

"Yes, that is what I fear as well. - Not that I would have her unhappy about it, but..."

"She can be a bit exuberant?"

The knowing grin told Darcy that Bingley knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Well, yes," Darcy admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

"Then let us go into the drawing room and break the news, old friend. There is no use in postponing it, the effect will stay just the same, so better be done with it."

There was wisdom in Bingley's words, no doubt, and still, Darcy did doubt he was yet prepared for the onslaught of Mrs Bennet's unctuousness. Still, as Bingley shoved him gently towards the drawing-room door, there was little use fighting the inevitable.

"Ready?" his soon to be brother asked with yet another nudge towards the suddenly daunting looking door.

"As ready as I will ever be, I presume."

And he had hardly finished speaking those words, when Bingley pushed open the door, dragging him inside along with him, whether he wanted it or not, and any struggle would have seemed rather odd at this point anyway. To say that the majority of the ladies were happy to see him would have been a blatant overstatement, for though they now all stared in Bingley's and his direction, only Miss Bennet and Mrs Young smiled. 

Mary Bennet looked up from her work frowning, Kitty Bennet only stared at him wide-eyed, Mrs Bennet glanced at him with some contempt and Lydia Bennet whispered loud enough for everyone to hear: "Dear me, what is this unpleasant man doing here? I thought we had gotten rid of him at last!"

"Lydia!" Jane Bennet cried out blushing furiously, almost rendered speechless from shock at her sister's behaviour. 

Mrs Younge, however, was not too stunned to speak. Getting up from her chair she planted herself firmly in front of the brazen girl, hands on her hips and her foot tapping impatiently.

"Get up, Miss Lydia!" she commandeered in a tone of voice brooking no opposition.

Even Lydia realised as much and did as she was bid, while her mother seemed indignant at the governess' stern demeanour towards her favourite daughter.

"You will excuse yourself and then go upstairs and into your room until you are called, is that understood?"

"And what next? Will you deny me a sweet treat after dinner? Or spank my bottom?"

"If you do not cease to be a spoilt and impertinent brat, Miss Lydia, I will take both into consideration. Respect is to be earned, and as yet you have done little to do so. If you behave like a bratty child, I will treat you as such until you have reformed your ways. And now go to your room!"

"Mrs Younge, may I remind you that I am still the mistress of this house?" Mrs Bennet piped up, ignoring the fact that with her interference the whole scene would get even more mortifying for her other daughters and visitors as it was anyway.

"Mother, I am sure Mrs Younge does not doubt your position in the least, but you must admit that it is her duty as governess to teach Lydia her place - and some manners. Lydia did misbehave and her punishment has not been unduly," Jane Bennet soothed, her gaze seeking that of her betrothed, before with yet another smile, though it was slightly forced in her embarrassment, stepped towards Darcy and held out her hand. "I am very glad you are here and to see you well, Mr Darcy. Please, can I offer you some refreshment?"

"No, I should be fine. I am to ask you from your father to write a letter to your sister to ask her to return back to Hertfordshire as soon as she possibly can to help you prepare for our wedding."

Only when she looked at him in a confused manner did he realise his slip of the tongue. 

"I mean your and Bingley's wedding and mine and..." he hesitated with a timid glance at the woman who would be his mother in law soon.

"Elizabeth's" Bingley finished cheerfully and Darcy could not help thinking that his friend enjoyed his discomfort far too much.

Miss Bennet's face lit up immediately giving his hands a reassuring squeeze and then, to pretty much everybody's surprise pecked him on the cheek.

"Oh, Mr Bingley, what are you talking about?" Kitty exclaimed, shaking her head and once more picking up her embroidery returned to her task while her mother only stared at the two men and her eldest daughter in bewilderment.

"But Mr Bingley is correct, Miss Catherine. To my great happiness, your sister has agreed to marry me and your father just gave me his consent to do so," Darcy smiled shyly and in doing so found he had yet another of his new sister's approval gained, for Kitty, looking up from her needlepoint smiled back brightly.

"I do wonder how that came about so quickly," Mary Bennet now spoke up, while her mother still sat like a pillar of salt, with her mouth gaping and her eyes wide. "I have always thought it was unwise to let Elizabeth go to London all on her own and in the company of Mr Darcy."

Again it was Miss Bennet who reacted first in pointing out that Elizabeth was hardly staying in London on her own and that she herself had gone to London with her to bring back Mrs Younge. Mary only huffed.

Had he, for a moment, thought that the revelation of his impending marriage had stunned Mrs Bennet into silence for any length of time, Mr Darcy momentarily found out, that this was not to be the case. Having recovered, at last, Mrs Bennet, sprang from her seat, screeching in delight, clapping her hands together and waltzing towards him like an inescapable avalanche. 

"Oh, Mr Darcy, what wonderful news! I am so delighted! What a fine match! I am all giddiness. Goodness, I never thought... - So rich, so handsome! My! What news! Oh, my nerves are all in a flutter. Can you believe it? I need to tell my sister Phillips immediately!" she repeated over and over again beaming up at him.

Had it not been for the fact that she needed to breathe there was little doubt that her exclamations of joy would have gone on forever. But as she did need to catch breath eventually, instead her future son in law found himself promptly pressed to her motherly bosom with such exuberant vigour that he almost stumbled.

Mrs Bennet still held him in a tight embrace when she had again caught breath enough to call out: "Hill! Hill, call for the carriage immediately, for I need to go see my sister Phillips. I have excellent news to tell her. HILL!"

And with that, she let go of her daughter's staggering and bewildered betrothed and rushed out into the hall to carry on calling for her housekeeper.

"I would say that went rather well, Darcy," Bingley grinned from ear to ear.

"Yes, me too," Darcy answered bemused, struggling not to laugh in sheer relief as he rubbed his abused left ear which had been far too close to Mrs Bennet's gab to not hurt at least a little bit.

In fact, it was surprising that his ear-drum had survived the onslaught of shrill tones so close by.   
To receive the well-wishes of the remaining ladies he now found far less daunting, well positively pleasing actually, and within less than a quarter of an hour, Mrs Bennet had departed promptly for Meryton it seemed, peace and quiet was restored to Longbourn's drawing room and a tray of refreshments had been ordered and delivered. Mrs Younge did the honours as hostess since Miss Bennet was currently writing to her sister just as her father had asked her to do, Bingley close by her side. 

"Is there anything you want me to pass on to Lizzy, Mr Darcy?" Jane, finally, inquired, apparently having finished her missive.

"Yes," he answered with a smile, "tell her I love her and miss her already."


	34. Chapter 33

Dearest Lizzy,   
I congratulate you on your betrothal. You cannot imagine how happy your, or rather Mr Darcy's, unexpected news made me and I hope I will make you just as happy with the latest news I have to share, for Mr Bingley and I are to be married, too. Mother, of course, is all in a flutter, though I have to say our future husbands have put up with her exuberant exclamations with admirable dignity and patience.   
You might also be happy to hear, that Kitty has grown to be quite a lady in such short a time since Mrs Younge took up her position. Even our father remarked the other day, how much more sensible and less silly she is since she had the proper guidance. Lydia, however, is keeping up a fight and her behaviour, if anything, got worse. I do hope she will come around eventually, but at present, she is close to being insufferable. Our mother, as well, has not quite adjusted to having a governess for her daughters around and is lamenting her youngest daughters to be kept indoors so much for their lessons, when, in her opinion, they could employ their time so much better by meeting with the officers.   
At present she is on her way to our Aunt Phillips to share the news of your betrothal, so, be prepared that when you come back, the whole town will know about it.  
You coming back is actually the main reason why I write to you, for father has asked for your speedy return. I think he has missed you dearly, for I certainly did. And, of course, our mother now wants you here in order to prepare for the weddings.   
I will end this missive now, for I hope that in a few days time we shall see each other.  
Yours etc.

P.S. I am charged to tell you from Mr Darcy, that he loves you and is already missing you very much. From the tenderness of his expression, I know just how sincere he is and that he will make you just as happy as Charles will make me.   
J.B.

Elizabeth read those lines with an ever-changing expression. First of all, there was relief at her father's consent, then joy at Jane's congratulations and news, wariness towards Mrs Younge and the praise Jane had sung about her, pride in Catherine's improvement and anger at Lydia and her mother for being unteachable – and then once more overwhelming happiness when she read the last lines. He loved and missed her! And what was more, he had admitted to it openly. Yes, she loved and missed him just the same, and impatient to settle everything for her return to Longbourn, she went in search of her aunt and uncle. 

Her face must have shown her excitement, for no sooner had she found her aunt as she was addressed thus: "Lizzy, what is the matter, my dear, you do look very flushed. I hope you did not have bad news?"

"No – no, quite the contrary even. My father wants me to return to Hertfordshire as soon as possible – and he has given his consent. Oh, Aunt, I am so happy!"

Instead of a reply, Mrs Gardiner got up from her chair and took Elizabeth into her arms. The overjoyed look on her face did not need any uttering of words. 

Had it been for Elizabeth, she would have left straight away, or on the morrow at the latest, but since her father had neglected, or more likely simply forgotten, to send his carriage, she had to be content with waiting until her journey was properly arranged. What she had not counted on, however, was that though her father had been negligent in that regard, her betrothed was not, and though she had already gathered some of her things together, she was very much surprised, when the very next morning, about an hour before lunch, Mr Darcy's coach pulled up in front of her relatives' house in Gracechurch Street. 

Mrs Gardiner, well aware of her niece's impatience helped her, assured her that she took no offence for her hasty departure – and the kind smile on her face corroborated this statement. 

"Do not worry, Lizzy, I remember how I was at your age and it was not much better when I became engaged to your uncle at the age of five and twenty, and not even when I had just married him – and truth be told, even now, every time he is away on business, I still am more than impatient for him to return. I dare say it is a good sign that you miss each other even after such a short period of separation. It is exactly how it should be with two people deeply in love."

"Oh, Aunt, how can I ever thank you enough for your kindness?"

"Oh, you know, I grew up at Lambton, which is but a few miles from Pemberley. If you will invite me once in a while, I will be more than amply repaid."

"Of course I will invite you. - All of you. You, my uncle, my nieces and nephews. You will always be welcome to us."

"Of that, I have little doubt – but Lizzy, not too soon after your marriage. It might sound a bit presumptive of me, but a newly married couple should make the most of their honeymoon, being alone together instead of entertaining all the world. As soon as children come along, this time will be impossible to ever get back – and never in one's life are people more forgiving for slighting them than with a newlywed couple shutting out the world for a month or even two."

"Oh, Aunt!" Lizzy chuckled, though the thought of being completely alone with Mr Darcy somehow disconcerted her. 

It was not that she did not want to be alone with him, moreover, she longed for it. But she knew just enough to be aware that there was another side of intimacy between a husband and wife than just sit together and talk.

As if reading her mind, Mrs Gardiner whispered in her ear: "Do not worry, Lizzy, I shall be at your wedding and I will speak to you then, but for now, let us make haste."

And quickly packing the rest of her belongings, Elizabeth soon was on the way to Longbourn and the only thing that could have made her journey more pleasant, for in her anticipation to see Jane, and Mr Darcy again, her spirits were exceptionally high, would have been if either or both of them had been with her right now. But it was not to be, and Elizabeth was never one to ponder for long on things that were as futile as an 'if only'. Soon enough she would be home. The journey was not a long one and the roads, she had been informed by the groom, who was seconded by a footman, were in good condition. The coach, too, was comfortable and Mr Darcy had been thoughtful enough to supply her with everything that would make her journey the more pleasant. There was a small basket with some food, substituting the lunch she had missed with her aunt and uncle, a couple of cushions and blankets, should she want to sleep a bit, and there even was a book to pass the time. Tucked away inside the basket she had also found a note from Mr Darcy to her and though it was but short, it made her smile nonetheless. 

My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,  
I have offered your father to send my coach to convey you home when we both realised that though your sister was charged to ask you to return, that no arrangements had been made as to how it is to be done. A great many things have been sorted out, but I fear there is one major issue still to be considered – and carefully. But I do not want to alarm you. Once you arrive, there will be time enough to talk things over.   
But I fear I have alarmed you already. - Do not fret, all is well at present, and so, I suggest you lean back and enjoy your journey.   
Yours most affectionately  
Fitzwilliam

His signing with only his given name made her heart beat just this little bit faster. Fitzwilliam! Such a regal name, and yet so suitable for the man who bore it, she thought, before doing exactly what he had suggested – leaning back comfortably in her seat to watch the country fly past, at least at first, for soon her mind began to wander. 



In the few weeks she had been in London, the country had changed drastically. The leaves, then still in their deep green colour were now doused in browns, reds and yellows, it had gotten colder and yet, the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. Elizabeth loved the early autumn. - Well, really she loved every single season as long as she could venture outside. Rain and heavy snowfall thus, were her only enemies, and even that she on occasion enjoyed. To sit in the window seat, watching it pour down, listen to its drizzle against the window pane was nothing she objected to once in a while. Or to see the feather-like snowflakes fall to the ground noiselessly, covering it in a smooth white glistening blanket. 

Thus daydreaming she was surprised when suddenly the carriage stopped, flinging her almost out of her seat and she heard raised voices and what sounded suspiciously like a struggle. She knew the area, for Meryton was not far off. Somewhere to her right was Purvis Lodge, meaning home was a mere four miles away. Then the door was ripped open and a strange smelling cloth was pressed against her face. After that, all went blank.


	35. Chapter 34

"Are you sure, Mr Denny?" Darcy asked breathlessly, clenching his fists.

The young lieutenant nodded, his expression severe. Not ten minutes ago he had appeared on Netherfield's doorstep breathlessly asking to see Mr Darcy. Darcy, who had been just about to leave at first thought to tell him to come back another time, but no sooner had the young man caught sight of him, than he started to cry out that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was in grave danger of being abducted by none other than George Wickham.

Darcy's first reaction had been speechless indignation, for the officer must be joking, surely. But when he saw the expression on his face, he soon came to the conclusion that he was serious, and not only that, most disturbed.

"Wickham has left his uniform save for his weapon. I am sure he has no intention to come back. I came upon him last night and he was severely drunk and surprisingly talkative. Not that I paid much attention at first, but when he started to speak of you, your family and the Bennets I did at last listen. 'With Darcy getting married, I will never have a chance of inheriting Pemberley! But it is mine to have and mine alone. As old Mr Darcy's favourite I am entitled to receive what is my due and not that coward he has fathered,' he repeated over and over again. And then that he would know exactly what to do to have this wedding never take place. 'Pretty little thing, this Miss Bennet. But I cannot have her bear the very children who usurp my right inheriting Pemberley. But no, I will not kill her... - Ah, revenge is sweet, Denny, I will take her from Darcy and then marry her myself.'"

"Good God!" Darcy gasped, hitting the door frame with his fist when in truth he was most desperate to punch Wickham – or rather beat him into oblivion.

"I could not let that happen, Sir," the young soldier carried on. "And if that was not already bad enough, he has also bragged about things I find most disgusting – about your sister. I do not think it is necessary to go into further detail. As said, he was very drunk then, but if even a fraction of what he said was true, then he should be hanged and not go around gloating about it. I for my part want nothing to do with a man who would do such dastardly deeds, no matter how long I have known him. I spent a restless night after that, hoping he had just rambled on in his drunkenness, but when I found him gone this morning, knowing that he had no leave, I went to Colonel Forester straight away and then set out to warn you."

Many things went on in Darcy's mind, whirled together until his thoughts resembled a brewing storm ready to break loose at any given time and without much of a warning. This was it! If he had the chance, this time he would kill Wickham! 

"How did he know about my upcoming nuptials anyway?"

"Mrs Bennet told the whole town. I dare say your wedding will be the most frequented event in Hertfordshire in the last century or so," there Lieutenant Denny dared a small smile before turning serious again. "I fear it was I who persuaded him to join the militia, but then I did not know that he was fleeing from his creditors and people yet more dangerous. If he were not such a blackguard one could almost feel sorry for him..."

"But alas, he is such a blackguard!" Darcy spat.

"Yes. What he wants is the whole of your fortune - and to destroy you."

Darcy shrugged. It did not really explain why Wickham was always intended to see him suffer. 

Denny supplied the answer: "You do know that his mother took her own life, do you not? It seems she was unable to see that the blame for her husband's lost fortune was all on her. She resented him for not having more, she resented her child for having ruined her looks – and her son is just like her."

"So you say that he is mad?"

"I would not call it madness, Mr Darcy. Some people are just silly, others are irresponsible by nature and the likes of Wickham are just unable to see their own flaws. You, of course, are familiar with the legend of Narcissus?"

Darcy nodded.

"That is just how Wickham is. He knows his charms, but when confronted with the reality of his circumstances, he cannot help but feel that he was entitled to something better than merely being the son of the old Mr Darcy's steward. - Ah, there the Colonel is!"

At his words Colonel Forester stepped through the door, his face almost as ashen as that of Darcy. 

"I have had the whole of Meryton searched. He is gone. Mr Darcy, I am at your disposal. What do you propose?"

"We need to head towards London, we either find him or at least will be able to protect Miss Elizabeth."

"What about her father?"

"We will stop at Longbourn quickly. Gods, why did I bother with propriety and had her travel alone? I should have gone to London to pick her up!"

"Now, man, this is not the time for self-reproach!" the Colonel spoke, already turning towards his horse. "Do you have a weapon?"

Hurrying up to retrieve his pistol, Darcy sat on his horse within minutes, neither donning his great coat nor hat. He neither had the time to stop for them nor any use. He needed to be able to move, and every extra layer would be a hindrance.



Never in his life had Darcy been so glad to have taken someone into confidence, for it needed no explanation at all to convince Mr Bennet of how dire the situation was. He sent them ahead in order to not delay them should his daughter be in peril, only because his horse needed saddling. 

'There should still be time', Darcy hoped, praying fervently that she was alright. 

He had not written to Elizabeth to tell her he would be sending his carriage, and surely she needed to pack and with that was probably only on the Hampstead Heath by now. She had to be. They reached the sharp bends just before the crossroads leading down to Purvis Lodge, an odd S-shaped kink in the road, due to a meandering little river running next to it, making the path first turn deftly right and then left. They had not reached the first bend when they heard the sound of a struggle which soon died and then the squeal of a lady which stopped abruptly.

"Elizabeth!" Darcy but whispered her strangled cry ringing in his ears.

Jumping from his horse he ran the last few yards and just in time to see his nemesis tie up his unconscious bride.

"Let go of her, Wickham!" Darcy demanded, his voice dangerously calm, though on the inside he was anything but. 

"And what if not?" was his smirking answer as he turned around calmly facing the very man he blamed for all his misfortunes.

"I will shoot you – and I am a much better shot than you, or do you think I do not know you were aiming for my heart? And what did you hit? My upper thigh – pathetic!"

"It was that bitch of a woman you call sister that nudged my arm, you coward," Wickham leered, his handsome face contorted into an ugly grimace. 

"Hm, I dare say that was probably the only reason you hit me at all," Darcy mocked in cold blood. "The only person you ever had in focus, is yourself and it shows in your shooting skills."

All the hate towards Wickham which he had tried so desperately to suppress in fear it would turn him into just as bad a man as his fiercest foe once best of friends, welled up inside of him. Georgiana, Mrs Younge, himself and now Elizabeth – no, enough was enough! 

Raising his gun Darcy aimed before Wickham had much time to react. And fired.


	36. Chapter 35

Yelping in pain, Wickham held his shattered right hand with his left, his face contorted with pain and disbelief, while Colonel Forester and Lieutenant Denny rushed forward to bind him, and Darcy, throwing aside his pistol hastened towards Elizabeth, leaving his coachman and footman lie there half in a ditch for the moment after, with a quick glance, ascertaining that they were nothing more than slightly drowsy from being knocked out and severely entangled in a fishing net. Wickham's plan had been a simple but clever one it seemed, particularly considering that he had been on his own. But how exactly he had managed to blindside his men, was for later to determine. Pulling his betrothed into his arms, he was relieved to see, that she was not only breathing, but also regaining consciousness.

Still, he asked: "Lizzy, are you alright? Please tell me he has not done any harm to you."

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked, looking around her with some confusion then fixing her eyes on him, till a moment later she seemed to recall what had happened and her face assumed an angry expression. "Well, I hope this vile, this most unpleasant man gets what he deserves!"

At that Darcy could not help but chuckle at her spirited outburst. She really was a remarkable woman!

"Oh, be sure he will, my love. Be sure he will. Wickham is, at this moment tied up into a neat little package to be transported back to the militia headquarters, where he will be tried. And considering his offence – or I should rather say offences - there is little doubt that his punishment will be severe," he soothed, cutting the ties which still bound her with his penknife. 

"Normally I feel saddened at knowing that a man might be hanged, but after everything he has done – to you, Georgiana and so many others, I cannot help but feel some kind of righteous satisfaction. I only hope that Mrs Younge will get what she deserves likewise."

There Darcy startled until he realised that she as yet, was unaware of Mrs Younge's innocence in the matter. With wide eyes Elizabeth listened as in a few short sentences he explained the situation before she shook her head, her face saddening ever so much more at hearing what he had to say about his sister's former companion.

"Oh dear! Such a coward to threaten to do harm to an innocent child only to get his way. Never in my life did I think that so much wickedness can exist in one single person!"

Darcy, though very inclined to agree, still felt as if some explanation was necessary. Since Denny had brought it up, he had never given much thought why Wickham had turned out such a foul man, but oddly enough, it had made sense.

"I agree, and yet, I think, while some wickedness might have been in his very nature right from the start, he never was held liable for any of his actions. Not by his father and neither by mine. He has never learned how to take responsibility, and due to his natural charms always got away with everything. He was brought up knowing he was well provided for, and then, when I took that away from him, his wrath turned against me."

"Do not you dare take responsibility for his vileness, Fitzwilliam!"

"I do not, Elizabeth. He is a grown man and he had his choices. That he made the wrong ones is on no-one but himself. Had he been content with the living and had he not gambled away his fortune, he could be a well-situated man with hardly anything to wish for. But alas, he did not choose to take that way, and my refusal to support him stemmed from his actions, not the other way around."

"Wise man! I am proud of you," Elizabeth smiled back at him before her eyes fell on the two struggling servants unceremoniously discarded in the hedgerows.

Taking the hint, Darcy, at last, freed his two men, both looking thoroughly crestfallen for having failed their duty until their ire also turned towards the wailing and bleeding man now packed atop his former fellow officer's horse like a sack of barley. No-one stopped the young and hot-headed footman from going over to spit on Wickham in disgust before turning away with an exclamation of "Bastard!".

It was only then that Mr Bennet arrived, for everything had happened surprisingly quickly, considering that they had assumed the worst. Relief was clearly written over his face when he saw Wickham bound and incapacitated, and at seeing his daughter once more safely ensconced in Darcy's arms. A small, though melancholic smile spread over his features.

"Ah, I see everything has been taken care of quite neatly. No-one has been injured," he said cheerfully, his glance trailing towards Wickham again, whose blood from his wounded hand was slowly dripping onto the lane, making Mr Bennet's meaning very clear. 

After what that scoundrel had tried to do to his little Lizzy, this man was nothing to him and if he bled to death, it would be less of a bother than being stung by a bee. Darcy could hardly agree more. And then, after all the fear, the tension from an hour or so ago, the situation suddenly started to feel unreal as the shock of the aftermath set in, the realisation that everything could have ended so much worse, while at the same time Darcy found that it could not possibly have ended any better. Wickham would not be tried by a regular magistrate, but by the militia, and with that, his trial would not be a public one. Not only was Elizabeth safe in his arms, no, his sister's reputation was safe, too. And besides, Wickham's last offences in combination were already severe enough to leave out completely what he had done to Georgiana and still have him hanged. In short, the ending was as good as it could get, considering the circumstances and had it not been for what Elizabeth had to go through in order for this to be achieved, he would have been thoroughly overjoyed. Oh, but why had he not gone and picked her up instead of only sending his men?

Well, the answer was an easy one: They were betrothed now, and the journey was a long one. It would have been highly improper, so very different a situation from when he had collected her for dinner a little more than two weeks ago. But damn propriety if this was the result! He would never ever again choose between propriety and protection. What was propriety's worth anyway, if a young and innocent girl was faulted for a man's crime? When it meant that he could not escort his betrothed in order to protect her? Nothing!

It was to no surprise to him, when Darcy felt Elizabeth begin to shake in his arms as she started crying, while his cravat suddenly seemed too tight. Planting a soft kiss on her forehead, Darcy found that Mr Bennet was watching them closely and yet did not step in, presumably realising that his daughter needed the comfort and care he was giving her.


	37. Chapter 36

They made their way back to Longbourn, Darcy never leaving her side, while her father rode beside them on his horse. Initially, Elizabeth had been relieved and yet, now she could not help crying for what reason she knew not. But all of a sudden everything had become too much and now she was completely overwhelmed by so many emotions she could not even say which. 

Now that there was no need for fear anymore, she felt scared, her mind wandering to what Georgiana must have felt when she had been violated by Wickham. Had he intended to do the same to her? Why had she been targeted anyway? And how did Wickham know she was to be in Darcy's carriage? For she was certain that he had not been surprised in the least when seeing her within instead of the master of Pemberley. How had he managed to ambush two men?

Snuggling closer into her betrothed's arms, her mind reeled and reeled, and she knew she would not be able to rest unless she had at least some questions answered.

They had barely reached Longbourn, when she was once again confronted with the whole house in an uproar and once more Lydia was the source of it, eagerly joined by her mother.

"You never let us go out these days!" the young girl accused, and it was clear that her governess was on the receiving end of her tirade.

"Well, you obviously did get out yesterday, when you sneaked out of the house when you should have taken care of the herbs in the still room, Miss Lydia."

"La, how else was I supposed to get to Meryton, when you all but lock us indoors? It is not fair, is it, Mama?"

"No, not at all. You are much too stern with my poor little Lydia – and you always single her out for punishment, too!"

"Enough!" her father shouted, and never in her life had Elizabeth seen him lose his temper so. "I have had enough of your antics, Lydia. If you went to Meryton yesterday, I dare say I hardly need to ask if you happened to see Lieutenant Wickham, do I?"

Lydia looked stunned for only the shortest of moments.

"Oh no, I did see him, and you know what? He said that if I get so mistreated as I am at present, that he will take me away. So!"

It was a sad testimony of how naive she was, that she did not even realise that this alone was justification enough for her to be locked up in her room. Mr Bennet, however, did do so.

"That you even dare say such a thing, is proof enough that you cannot be trusted to go into Meryton on your own, or anywhere really."

"Oh, Mr Bennet, how can you say so?" his wife started up, but for once he had none of it.

"Silence! With your indulging our youngest's every whim, you, Mrs Bennet, have spoilt her to a point where she is close to being unmanageable – as have I in turning a blind eye. But let me assure you, that if you carry on with taking her side when you should oppose her behaviour, I will have her sent to join Miss Bingley, is that understood? Oh, and before I forget, I will withdraw her account at the milliner's – and dare you, Mrs Bennet advance her anything. Unless she learns how to behave properly, she will not go into society and consequently does not require new clothes."

Mrs Bennet was about to protest, but at seeing her husband's expression, contented herself with pressing her lips together in disapproval.

But Mr Bennet was not finished: "To your information, Mr Wickham was the very reason why Mrs Younge and I thought it better for you not to go into Meryton, for he is a criminal."

"No, he is not!" Lydia interrupted him. "He cannot be."

"He is. Just now Mr Wickham has tried to abduct Lizzy and had Lieutenant Denny not warned us about it, he might even have succeeded. I think you should perhaps go to your room and contemplate over what your disobedience has caused."

There, at last, silence enveloped the house, at least until Kitty and Jane rushed forward to embrace their still crying sister, while Mrs Younge escorted a surprisingly downcast Lydia up the stairs and to her chamber.

"Come, Lizzy, you need to rest," Jane said softly, while Catherine only clung to her, giving as much comfort as she herself was receiving from holding onto Elizabeth.

"No, Jane, I first need to know what exactly has happened. It all went so quickly that I cannot recall much of it"

Looking at the coachman and footman pleadingly, both nodded and soon found themselves in the parlour either looking decidedly uncomfortable to be treated like proper guests. But Mr Bennet had insisted on them to take some tea with the rest of the family, while Mrs Bennet had, not knowing what else to do, conveniently fainted and been brought up to her room.

"It is easy enough to explain, Miss," the coachman started, carefully holding the china cup in his hands as if it were a raw egg. "We were just rounding the first bend over yonder when suddenly Higgins got knocked over the head and fell off the back of the carriage and when I turned to see what was going on, I, too, was bashed over the head and fell backwards. In no time that criminal threw fishing nets over us and though we struggled to free ourselves, the more we did so, the more entangled we became. When he saw that we would not stop fighting, we were knocked over the head another couple of times, not that that would have been necessary, for by then we were as helpless as any new-born babe. What happened after that, I am not certain of, for I could not see much of what was going on inside the carriage, and besides I was very drowsy. Thank goodness I have a solid head, though it does still hurt mightily. Then I heard Mr Darcy's voice and a shot – and I so hoped that that wicked Wickham was dead. But I guess it is better that he is not, for your sake, Sir."

"Perhaps it is. Aside, I think that justice is better served cold – much like revenge. But if you are still suffering from a headache, I will send for the apothecary and have you looked over," Darcy said, seemingly recalling his own recent concussion, for subconsciously he reached up to touch the fading scar. 

"That will not be necessary, Sir," both footman and groom replied bashfully, still sitting precariously on the comfortable sofa as if putting their combined weight could make it collapse. 

"It is necessary. You are in my employment and with that under my care. It is the least I can do. I will brook no opposition."

"Mr Darcy is right," Mr Bennet interjected. "But for now, please, be my guests. It does not fall to your lot that Mr Wickham is such an unpleasant sort of man – and neither to yours, Mr Darcy, and rest assured in that situation either of us would have been completely blindsided. I know that spot very well, and it is a well- known local legend that a little more than two hundred years ago it was the favourite haunt of a part-time highwayman named Charles Goulding – the younger brother of Sir Henry Goulding, who happened to be a magistrate. He ended up condemning his own brother - a gentleman by day and a robber by night..."

As a young girl, Elizabeth had always heard that story with some fascination, particularly since it related to some of their acquaintances' forefathers, pining over the untimely end of the poor sod Charles while being incredulous at how a brother could condemn his own kin to be hanged drawn and quartered. But now, knowing what it was to be on the receiving end of a man who had no scruples in taking what he wanted, all charm had been lost and her compassion lay with Sir Henry instead of his brother. What must that poor man have felt? What must Darcy feel at seeing his childhood friend being bound and in all likeliness hanged? After all, at one point they had been companions.


	38. Chapter 37

Three weeks had passed since her almost abduction, and slowly but surely Elizabeth had recovered her spirits. There was, after all, no reason why her mind should linger on such a horrible experience when her wedding was fast approaching, was there? 

No, certainly not! And besides, a man like Mr Wickham, intent to ruin peoples lives only for his own gain, was not deserving of being thought of. Not that he would ever harm anybody ever again.

Elizabeth was fairly surprised at herself for not feeling in the slightest upset that Mr Wickham had been hanged just this morning at dawn. Moreover, not only was she not upset, she was relieved. Never again would he harm anybody. And when once in a while her mind did stray down that dark memory lane, there was always so much to prepare for her and Jane's wedding day, that no sooner had the thought appeared, she managed to push it aside.

With the wedding preparations, even Mrs Bennet had recovered surprisingly fast after the shock she had suffered, and her shrill voice was heard around the house all day long and well into the night, for she insisted that it was no small feat to plan and prepare such an elaborate double event. And for her two eldest daughters it was no small challenge to keep her from completely overdoing things. 

Their wedding dresses had been ordered and repeatedly Mrs Bennet had sneaked into the milliner's shop to acquire a bit more lace here, and a couple of more silk flowers there to bring to their seamstress, for a plain dress would just not do, and so it was, that Jane's and Elizabeth's daily walks always included a visit with said dressmaker to keep her from attaching any of the excessive lace and flowers onto their deliberately simple and plain gowns. 

Alone this was enough to have Elizabeth laugh. It was quite a funny game of cat and mouse of sorts.

Looking over to the little girl playing with her doll in one corner of the drawing room while her mother taught her pupils in the breakfast-parlour, she could not help smiling even wider. There was yet another person who would never be threatened again, at least not by George Wickham – little Isabella Younge. That her father, on Mr Darcy's suggestion, had allowed for him to make arrangements to bring the child here to live with her mother had shown her once more how considerate a man her betrothed was, and her father as well, she had to admit as much. 

No, there really was no better man in the world. Not for her at any rate, and Jane was perfectly welcome to think the same of Mr Bingley. 

"Miss Lizzy, can you help me with the bow please?" the girl approached her, holding out her doll, whose apron strings had come loose.

"But of course, Bella. Let me show you."

She was thus occupied when the door opened and the man who had occupied her thoughts only a moment before stepped in, his face breaking into a wide smile at seeing her together with the child.

"Mr Darcy!" Little Bella cried happily, leaving Elizabeth with the doll while she ran over to greet the tall man with a hug. 

Just like her little nephew, the child had taken to Mr Darcy immediately. He would be such a wonderful father. One day – soon. Elizabeth had to swallow hard at the thought. 

Soon, soon they would be man and wife and then... - She blushed slightly at the thought of them creating their children. Not that she had much of an idea how it was done, but she did know that they would have to see each other naked. 

It was Darcy's voice that brought her back to safe grounds.

"Hm, I seem to get increasingly popular with the ladies," he grinned, though she could hear that there was an undertone of sadness in his voice. 

"So it seems, Fitzwilliam," Lizzy laughed, while the girl looked slightly confused but then scampered back over to retrieve her doll.

"How are you, my dear?"

Elizabeth knew full well what he was referring to.

"I am well, Fitzwilliam. Relieved."

"Yes, me, too. It still feels unreal that all of this has finally come to an end, and it makes me sad to know that the young man my father held in such high esteem has ended in such a way, but it really is more for my father's sake that I am grieved. I, too, can say from my heart that I am relieved. Relieved that it is over and that we all have gotten out of it so well, considering."

Elizabeth nodded and getting up from her seat walked over to him to take his hands into hers. Ever since her rescue, she had wanted nothing more than to be held in his arms again and hold him in return, and it had been quite vexing that they had never been quite alone to do so after that fateful day. 

And once more, it was not to be, it seemed.

"What time is it?" Bella queried all of a sudden, her doll all but forgotten, and the moment of intimacy was broken.

"Almost lunch, why?" Elizabeth answered slightly bewildered at the sudden urgency in Isabella's voice.

"Oh, I promised Mrs Hill to help her with the desert," the child answered brightly bobbing up and down on her feet.

Baffled both Darcy and Elizabeth looked at each other and then chuckled. 

"Well, it is very important to have somebody lick clean the spoons, you are quite right," Mr Darcy replied dryly, watching as the girl scampered out of the room before he slowly pulled his bride closer.

The kiss was so very sweet, so comforting and right, that neither of them was aware that Mr Bennet stood right behind them with an almost exasperated expression.

"It really is time the wedding took place, after three weeks, all this romancing is quite hard to bear," he huffed, though with a glint in his eyes that betrayed his sombre mien, making his daughter and future son in law jump apart once again.



"Lizzy, can I have a word with you?" Lydia inquired reluctantly right after dinner as the gentlemen were yet to join them, her eyes cast down.

It had been the first night after Elizabeth's arrival that she had been allowed to join her family for the evening meal.

"Yes, of course. What is it?" Elizabeth asked surprised never having seen her sister this bashful and almost shy, realising that she had been unusually quiet at dinner as well.

Putting down her book she beckoned Lydia to sit next to her on the Ottoman she currently occupied while their mother spoke to Jane, Kitty sat bent over her embroidery, though it was really getting too dark, Mrs Younge read a story to her daughter in the opposite corner of the room and Mary wrote yet another extract. 

"I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for putting you in such danger. Had I listened and done what I was supposed to do, nothing of this would have happened. I know that now. Please, Lizzy, can you forgive me?"

Taking her sister's hands into her own, Elizabeth replied: "Of course I can, Lydia. For that at any rate. For how could you have known what kind of man Mr Wickham really was? That he made use of this information in such a way, you could hardly have imagined."

"Yes, that may be true. But you do blame me for having behaved so horribly against you, Jane, Mrs Younge, and Mr Darcy? For never paying attention to propriety and always doing as I saw fit with no regard for the feeling of others?"

"Well...?" Elizabeth was quite at a loss as to what to say. 

"You know, you would have every right to do so. In the three weeks locked up in my chamber, I had a lot of time to think. Oh, do not get me wrong, at first I was furious, but slowly but surely I could see how at fault I was, how spoilt and misbehaved. I had little to do but read – and the only books father has given me were Fordyce's sermons and the bible."

"So contemplation was unavoidable?" Elizabeth asked light-heartedly.

"Yes," Lydia sighed, then with only the slightest glint of mischief added: "And it was quite a new experience for me."

It was hard to keep a straight face at such a self-deprecating statement from Lydia of all people.

"Lydia, if you promise me to try and behave and not to oppose Mrs Younge all the time but instead work hard to improve your mind, I can assure you, that you are completely forgiven with all my heart."

"No, I will not make any promises of this kind, I will prove it. I will prove that I can be a lady and that I am not beyond saving. That not all I am thinking about is myself, officers and lace, and that I do actually care about others."

"That is even better."

"And I will start today. You were the first, and as soon as the gentlemen appear, I will beg Mr Darcy for forgiveness likewise – to Mrs Younge and father I have already spoken, or otherwise I would still be locked up, and you know, I actually start to like her. We did need a governess. – No, actually, we needed her, not any governess."

Glancing over at the young woman and her daughter Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. When Mr Darcy had first told her that Mrs Younge was not to blame after all, for what had happened to his sister, she had been sceptical, but when he had explained at length, she could not help but agree. What mother would she have been had she not sought to protect her daughter? And after all, she had warned Mr Darcy – and if that was redemption enough for him, so it was for her.


	39. Chapter 38

Finally, his wedding day arrived. To say that Fitzwilliam Darcy was nervous would be an understatement, he had not felt as giddy as he felt now since he had been a little boy on Christmas morning. Glancing out of the window he found that the weather was as foul as it could possibly be and that the slight drizzle from last night had slowly but surely turned into an unpleasant mix of dense rain and snow. In his mind he could almost hear Mrs Bennet complain about it loudly while at the same time she beckoned her daughters to get through breakfast quickly so they could get dressed, all the while complaining about her poor nerves. When he had first met her, he would have thought it rather annoying, but now, just like Elizabeth, he rather thought it amusing. 

At any rate, the weather bothered him little as such, were it not for the fact that Elizabeth and he intended to set off towards Pemberley after the wedding breakfast. But as it was, the first part of their journey was hardly more than twenty miles until they would reach the inn where they were supposed to stay the night. It should not be much of a problem. 

The night. - Their wedding night...

His face flushed at the thought. He loved Elizabeth dearly, her conversation, wit, gentleness, but after all, he was still a man, and to have her in his bed, at last, had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. Romantic love was all nice and well, but there was also his physical desire for her, though he had fought hard to suppress it these past couple of weeks. When he had kissed her, he felt the danger of losing control and though he had silently cursed Mr Bennet for interrupting them, he was also glad of it. To have Elizabeth so close and yet so far away had been a daily torture, though of the sweetest kind. 

It was a shame that Pemberley was such a distance from Longbourn, but even though Bingley had offered for them to stay the night at Netherfield, he had declined. After all, his friend was to be married today as well, and he did not want to impose on another newly married couple. It would not do. 

Ringing for his valet he asked for a cup of tea and some buttered toast to be brought up, for he was not sure whether he could stomach anything else. Pacing up and down in front of the window he thought about Georgiana and his two cousins, all so far away and unable to come to his wedding. Well, at least his two aunts and the Earl had accepted his invitation, for otherwise none of his family would have attended. Well, for Bingley it was not that much different, for he had pointedly excluded his sister Caroline from the wedding, and only Mr and Mrs Hurst had arrived the previous evening to leave again after the ceremony. 

A knock sounded on his door, and Bingley stepped in, looking not any less anxious as he himself felt.

"Two more hours, Darcy," he said, rubbing his hands together, his cheeks flushed and most certainly never standing still. "Do you think it a good idea to have a sip of brandy?"

"No, I actually think it a very bad idea, old friend," Darcy grinned lopsidedly.

He had thought about such measures himself, but in order to calm himself, he was certain, he would not need a sip of brandy or even a glass, but rather a whole decanter. It was not even that he thought something might go wrong, or Elizabeth might have a change of heart or anything along those lines, it was more that at present, everything felt like a dream, a wonderful dream, but a dream nonetheless. What if he just woke up? 

And there he was thinking Mrs Bennet silly...

Bingley only shrugged, returned his grin and then left again, reminding Darcy a little of a rubber ball bouncing through the hallways. Why oh why had the time pass so slowly?

But at last it was time to leave and suddenly everything went surprisingly quickly. Soon Longbourn Church was in view and his heartbeat sped up even more. In an hour he would be Elizabeth's husband. - Elizabeth would be his wife. 

Stepping out of the carriage, he made his way towards the church door where he saw his aunt waiting impatiently under the little roof above the entrance, wondering whether that was a good or bad thing. She was, after all, a force to be reckoned with if she set her mind to it – and she did quite often.

"Aunt Catherine, how nice to see you," he greeted unsure whether he actually meant it or not, considering how difficult she could be at times, while at others she could be the most amiable person around. – It really greatly depended on her mood.

But judging by the smile on her face, today she seemed to be determined to be pleasant. Good!

"Ah, nephew, I could hardly pass on seeing you married at last. You did manage to escape having me as a mother in law when conveniently my daughter fell in love with Richard – and he with her, but I dare say, Mrs Bennet is at least as charming and busy-body as myself, and I have to say I am very charmed by your bride. She is so extremely pretty she is bound to turn heads wherever she goes. Alone her beautiful golden locks! And those blue eyes of hers... - Her sister seems a bit more shrewish, but I think she will do admirably for your friend."

"Excuse me?" He gaped at her and for a moment Darcy was slightly confounded before it dawned on him that she had confused the brides with one another.

Well, better her than the parson... - What a disaster that would be. Oh good Lord, he should not have thought about such a thing! Not at all! Breaking out in cold sweat he was suddenly certain that a double wedding had been a very bad idea. 

"Between us, Fitzwilliam, I think the little shrew would suit you better," Lady Catherine teased and her eyes sparkled suspiciously. "I really think you should have asked my advice beforehand. I had the pleasure of speaking to her, and I actually quite like her. Her sister is a bit too docile, do you not agree?"

Damn that woman!

"Aunt, please, can you stop teasing me, I am nervous enough as it is."

"Ah, that was what I wanted to hear. If a man is not nervous upon his wedding day, something is seriously wrong."

"Now that is some consolation," Darcy replied sarcastically.

"Well, it is. Now come along, we cannot have your bride waiting in the carriage forever, and I see her peeking out from there and glancing in your direction as it is."

He wanted nothing more than to turn around and have a look at his bride but with some force, his aunt pushed him forward and he had but little choice than to step into the dim light of the church and wait some more endless instances alongside his friend. But at least this time, it was only for half an eternity, for no sooner had he nervously taken his place at the altar, that the organ started playing and he heard the footsteps of their brides and father approach and only a moment later, Elizabeth was by his side. 

She looked breathtaking. She always looked lovely, but her happiness at standing up with him lent her a glow beyond anything he had as yet seen. Her eyes sparkled like never before, her lips looked so very sweet, her cheeks were flushed and her figure looked so very fine in her cream coloured gown with a hint of rose-colour here and there. As hard as it was, he turned his head to his other side to see yet another beaming bride by his friend's side, her dress almost identical to that of Elizabeth, but with tints of blue, complementing her eyes as the soft pink had Elizabeth'S complexion glow. 

When he looked at Bingley he saw that if the man smiled any more, the corners of his mouth would surely touch his ears. Darcy could only presume, that he sported a very similar picture. 

"Dearly beloved," the parson started, and from then on, truth be told, Darcy hardly heard a word until the vows were exchanged, for his heart hammered in his chest like never before, hoping never to wake from this dream. 

But it was not a dream, the ring on his finger was very real. He was married – to his Elizabeth.


	40. Chapter 39

The wedding breakfast had been very grand indeed, and though he knew Elizabeth would have liked to stay a bit longer, the increasingly bad weather had made it necessary at last, to part an hour earlier than originally planned. They were about to step out, when he felt a gentle tuck on his coat and upon turning around saw a whole group of little children there. But it had been little Miss Younge who had stopped him in his tracks, her smiling and proud mother by her side.

"Mr Darcy?" she asked reluctantly, her doll held tightly in her arms.

"Yes?"

"Will you have children soon? Mrs Bennet said she cannot wait to have grandchildren, you know and that you and Miss Lizzy surely will want to have some babies."

Beside him, he could feel his wife shake in suppressed laughter, while he could feel the heat rise to his cheeks. Oh dear, children could be so wonderfully blunt in all their innocence.

"Well, I suppose so, Bella," he stuttered, but before he could wonder what this question was all about, she had pressed her little doll into his hands.

"Then you will need this, Sir," she said earnestly. "Her name is Annie."

"But will you not miss her terribly?"

"Yes, I think so. But you know, I have my mummy back," she beamed up at the woman by her side, "so I do not really need her anymore."

It was hard to miss that she was close to crying, and yet was determined to give him her dearest possession and only because he had brought her back to her mother. Going down to his knees, he handed her the doll back.

"Bella, that is very kind of you, but she is yours to love, and to give you comfort at night, and to play with by day. If you really want to give it to me, then I will give her into your charge. Will you take care of her for me and Miss Lizzy?"

Relief flooded the face of the girl as she took back her doll, nodding solemnly.

"I do promise."

"Good. I trust you completely, Miss Younge," he got up and bowed formally. "Masters Gardiner, Misses Gardiner, I trust you will behave well."

A storm of giggles was his reward as he turned to face his sister's former companion: "Mrs Younge, as presumptive as your daughter was just now, please know, that once your work here is done - and God willing we have children by then, you will be more than welcome to work as our governess."

"I..."

"No, please, Mrs Younge, do not blame yourself any longer," Elizabeth stepped in, taking the woman's hands in a kind gesture. "You must know that you are forgiven – not just by us, but also by Georgiana. Though actually, she never blamed you in the first place. I think she knew that you were blameless in the matter. She said something along those lines when I first met her."

"We will see, Mrs Darcy. There is still much to do and yet, to know that I have your support and forgiveness does mean a great deal to me."

"Yes, and I am sure I still do need a lot of guidance," Lydia piped up, laughingly, having appeared out of nowhere. "So do not count on her within the next eight years or so."

This produced some chuckles and a pair of raised eyebrows from Mary who had trailed behind her.



The entrance hall slowly but surely cleared, when at last Mr Bennet approached them, holding out his hand to his son. He tried to make light of it, but it was plain to see, that his chuckle lacked the spirit it normally bore.

"Hm, that was very kind of you not to take the doll with you and yet still to accept it as a gift and yet, you selfishly took my most prized possession from me today, Mr Darcy," 

"Oh, Papa, please!" his daughter cried, wrapping her arms around the old man as she must have done a thousand times. "You know you can visit whenever you wish."

"Yes, yes, I do know that. - And at least I am happy to say that you leaving does no longer mean that there are no two words of sense spoken together, for I have to say Kitty has improved greatly and even Lydia promises well. - In regards to Mary, I am not quite sure, but she will find a parson for herself she can preach to, I am sure. You know, Mr Darcy, your aunt recommended her rector for Miss Mary – well, Miss Bennet now, I suppose, and do you know what? He is actually my cousin! The very man who will inherit Longbourn. Ah well, perhaps I should invite him here. I dare say my wife will be much consoled if one of her daughters one day will be mistress of this house instead of some unknown entity."

Ah, of course, his aunt had to mingle...

"What do you say, Mr Bennet?"

"Nothing. I was just wishing our dear daughter and her lovely husband good-bye."

"Oh, let them leave at last, can you not see that they want to be on their way?"

It was almost comical to see Mrs Bennet so untouched for once while her husband was close to tears. But she at least had achieved what she had always wanted. She had two daughters married and to rich men at that, for her, this day was perfect and parting with Elizabeth was only secondary to the joy she felt at having wed two of her five children.

Climbing into his coach, at last, he immediately pulled Elizabeth close to kiss her, and to make her forget that she was leaving her childhood home forever. And besides, she was his wife now, and he could not wait any longer.



The journey to Pemberley had taken excruciatingly long, for the slush had eventually turned into snow, and the carriage could make but half the progress it could under normal circumstances and even less had the roads been dry. But at last there it was, and he was pleased to see that Elizabeth's eyes had widened in delight at seeing his house. - Their home!

"Do you like it, my dear?" he whispered into her ear, longing to take her to their rooms and lock themselves in for at least a week. 

"What is there not to like, Fitzwilliam? And you very well know it, I dare say. But as lovely as the prospect is, another I find even more enticing."

"What?" he asked incredulously before he realised that she was teasing him. 

"Yes, I have to admit that I prefer the sight to my right much to the sight on my left," she laughed, turning towards him. "For you should know that it is you I love and not your estate or your money. Had you but fifty Pounds, I could not consider myself more blessed as long as you are by my side."


	41. Epilogue

About a year later:

"Fitzwilliam, will you not sit down?" Georgiana asked her pacing brother.

For hours he had done nothing else, ever since Elizabeth had felt the first pains in her swollen abdomen early this morning.

"I cannot," he replied, turning around to walk down the room once again, exclaiming upon returning to the sofa on which his sister sat: "Gods, why does it have to take so long? Are you sure she is alright?"

"It has been but eight hours since she went into labour, brother. Believe me, that is nothing. And besides, Peter is with her. All will be well. It took me thirteen hours until little James was born, and I was assured by Peter that that is quite normal. Rather quick even."

"Thirteen?!" Fitzwilliam Darcy cried out in exasperation, running his hands through his already dishevelled hair. "I will go crazy for sure."

"No, you will not!"

"Georgie, I know your husband is a wonderful doctor, otherwise I would not have given you into his care and certainly not allowed him to marry you, but I cannot stand idly by when I know Elizabeth is in pain. Have you seen her face when it all started?"

"It is normal, Fitzwilliam, I tell you. She will be fine. As soon as the baby is born, all is forgotten."

But nothing anybody could say made him feel any more comfortable and eventually, he could bear it no longer. Eight hours of restless pacing were enough, no matter what his sister said. He had to be by his wife's side, cost what it may. She was suffering because he needed an heir. It was not to be borne! The least he could do was to be by her side. Ripping open the door of the salon he rushed upstairs, taking two steps at a time, almost colliding with a young maid. 

"Sorry!" he panted before carrying on at running speed.

Flinging open the door to his wife's bedroom, a room which she hardly ever used, he was surprised to see Elizabeth standing by the window, leaning heavily on the window sill.

"Should she not lie down, Hamilton? Lizzy, my dear, you should rest."

From Doctor Hamilton's expression, it was very clear that he had expected his brother in law to appear sonner or later, and that he was only surprised that it had taken him so long to rush to his wife's side.

"I am fine Fitzwilliam, but right now standing is more comfortable than lying down. It feels the right thing to do..." she stopped as once again her face contorted in pain and her breath quickened with yet another contraction and then suddenly she relaxed again before she looked up in confusion, and Darcy could feel his feet getting slightly wet in his thin house slippers.

Looking over at his patient from where he sat, reading, Doctor Hamilton smiled: "Ah, good, your waters broke, now it is getting serious."

"What? Serious!"

"Darcy, please calm down, your wife is doing very well, and soon you will hold your first child."

"How much longer, Hamilton?"

"I cannot say, but not more than a couple of hours."

Darcy felt ready to faint at hearing that. How on earth could his brother in law be so very calm? Had he been just as calm when Georgiana had given birth? They had not been married then, of course, but only for the sole reason that had they been, the child, George Wickham's son, would have been born within wedlock and Richard and Anne Fitzwilliam would not have been able to claim little James as theirs. And even though eventually Georgiana had come to terms with her situation, the baby she had still not wanted, while Anne had wanted it very much. There could hardly be a more doting mother than her, while fortunately, her husband was a sensible enough man to take care that the boy would not follow in his natural father's footsteps. All was well in that quarter.

Georgiana's and Peter Hamilton's wedding had been a little more than a month later, as soon as she had recovered from childbed. Sure, it was far from the match Darcy had once imagined his sister would make, and yet, he was glad to know that she had found a loving husband who cherished her and thought nothing of her having given birth to another man's child. 



Three hours later, Darcy was speechless with awe. There in his arms lay his little baby daughter. His princess. The most beautiful, darling girl in the world – aside from her mother, of course. Handing her back to his wife he watched lovingly how Elizabeth held their daughter to her bosom so she could have her very first meal. 

"What do we call her?" he asked softly, gently caressing the baby's cheek as it suckled. 

Elizabeth smiled up at him: "I think we should call her Anne, after your mother."

 

 

The End


End file.
